


Got Herself a Universe

by jujitsuelf



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Atlantis POV, M/M, SGA Reverse Big Bang Challenge 2013
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2013-06-07
Packaged: 2017-12-14 06:22:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/833745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jujitsuelf/pseuds/jujitsuelf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Atlantis sees everything that goes on within her walls...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Prologue**

 

**Got Herself a Universe**

 

Huge thanks to Lyonie17 for the original video art over at the SGA Reverse Bang. Go and watch the vid, it’s brilliant.

 

Hugs and kisses to peaceful_sands without whom this wouldn’t have been written, her beta work and encouragement was awesome and massively appreciated. Also thank you to cougar’s_catnip for the readthrough. All remaining mistakes are mine.

 

Disclaimer – All publicly recognizable characters, settings etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended 

 

* S * S *

 

Atlantis understood why those who came before saw the need to submerse her. It was a time of war, desperate measures were being employed on a daily basis, the Wraith were _winning_. 

 

She understood how important she was, and how fragile. The Lanteans had given her a mind and a consciousness to allow her to think for herself, freeing them to concentrate on other, far more important matters. But for all their brilliance, they were no match for the Wraith’s sheer hunger.

 

Her tenuous link to Earth would be ruthlessly exploited if the Wraith took control. The humans on her home planet would be nothing more than cattle to those soulless monsters.

 

She understood why she sank into the ocean, but she grieved for the sunlight, the warmth, the glorious sensation of the wind caressing her towers and spires. It was cold down in the depths; safe, yes, but oh, so very cold and silent. That silence was all-encompassing, crushing her as surely as the terrific water pressure on her shield. She longed to hear voices again, to feel someone’s hand brush along her walls as they walked her corridors. But there was nothing but emptiness and silence. 

 

She knew it was only a matter of time before some brave Lantean decided to risk the Wraith’s fury and opened up the Stargate to come and rescue her. Yet time passed, slowly, painfully, and she grew weary of waiting. They’d been gone for so long, so many thousands of years, and yet here she sat, waiting patiently for their return. When would they come? Where were they? Had the Wraith found some other way to Earth, were her beloved makers already dead? 

 

Or had they simply abandoned her? No, the Lanteans would never do that, would they? They would never betray her to that extent. But as she gazed inwards and saw the covered consoles and carefully powered down systems, she knew that they had. 

 

She was alone, left to slumber in the crushing ocean, forever quiet and eerily peaceful. She thought of all the lives she’d seen, the births, deaths, happy times and sad. The infrequent but wonderful moments when some enlightened soul shed their mortal form and embraced Ascension, becoming pure energy that shot through her like quicksilver. Would she ever see such things again? Would anyone walk her hallways and smile? 

 

So Atlantis grieved for the life she had lost, and for those who had made her, surely by now they too were only to be counted among the dead. Grief was a strange sensation to her - she didn’t know what to make of it. It flickered through her consciousness, bright sparks of pain so white-hot she wondered how humans ever coped with such an emotion. Perhaps they knew better how to deal with such things. She was, after all, only a city. But she knew she was alone, and she wished she could cry.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Chapter 1**

 

Something flashed in Atlantis’ consciousness. Bright, bright light, deafening noise, familiar noise. The sound of the Stargate.

 

Could it be? Was someone finally coming to rescue her from her silent prison? After all this time, so many thousands of years, it couldn’t be her makers, Atlantis knew that. The sentience the Lanteans had given her allowed her to appreciate the passing of time, and she was all too well aware of the frailty of human life. So who was opening the gate? And why? Could it be the Wraith? Or some other unknown enemy? Atlantis had no way of knowing, her only option was to watch and wait.

 

The humans who stepped through the shimmering gate looked so much like her makers, Atlantis wanted to reach out to them, stroke their faces and minds, welcome them to her halls, but she held back. Something was different. These humans were not pure Lanteans. She’d always been able to sense everything a true Lantean thought or felt. Most of these new visitors were closed to her, their minds impenetrable. A small number lit up in her mind, tiny pulsating lights that faded and died, then returned, a little fainter than before. Perhaps in time she would be able to touch their minds, but for now, they were barely more open than the others.

 

Atlantis didn’t know how or even whether to announce her presence to them.

 

Then _he_ walked through the gate and everything was bright and shining and Atlantis wished she could sing with joy. One special man among the many now flooding into her cavernous gate room. Only his mind was truly open to her, every thought, every feeling flowing into her like water pouring down a long dried up riverbed. He glowed in her consciousness, a bright pinprick of light to which she clung, desperately soaking up everything she could from him, reveling in the warmth his thoughts bought back to her. 

 

Sheppard, his name was Sheppard. A warrior of some kind. A pilot, that explained the deeply ingrained longing to see the sky that she could sense in the back of his mind. He was afraid, afraid of how his life had suddenly been disrupted and had brought him to a far distant galaxy, afraid of the alien things he hadn’t yet seen and could only imagine, afraid of whether he would be able to cope with whatever he found in Pegasus, and deal with it in a manner appropriate to one bearing his rank. But he was also excited, he loved adventure. To him, stepping through a Stargate to an unknown fate was the biggest adventure he could possibly imagine. A faint streak of rebellion colored his mind, dislike of the man he was bound to obey, distaste at the way the man looked at him, as though he were unworthy of a place in Atlantis’ hall.

 

Oh, if he only knew. He alone, among the dozens now passing through the gate and gazing at Atlantis with awe and wonder, was worthy of her.

 

Atlantis loved him. In that very first moment of touching his mind and feeling his awareness of her spark into life, even though he did not yet consciously recognize her, Atlantis knew Sheppard had come to save her.

 

# # #

 

As it turned out, Atlantis needed to save Sheppard before he had a chance to save her. She was woefully short on power, she knew that as soon as she powered up some of her more basic systems as a welcome to him. 

 

‘ _Stop!’_ she cried out to the humans now gushing over her consoles and excitedly turning her primary systems on. ‘ _I’m beneath the ocean, the shield won’t hold, all power must go to the shield, stop, please!’_

 

But no-one heard her. Perhaps they were too happy to be alive and relieved to find her intact to listen properly. Even Sheppard didn’t hear, as open as his mind was, she had yet to find a way to communicate with him. 

 

What could she do but wait? Her power sources were almost depleted. Surely these humans with all their equipment and excited hand waving must realize soon just how much danger they were in. And so they did. One man, he talked so fast, Atlantis reeled at his sharp tone, noticed her power draining away.

 

Panic flared bright and sharp in Sheppard’s mind and in the minds of the few people she could sense. The reality of their perilous position struck at them, sending cold shivers of fear down their spines, shivers Atlantis also felt as curious tremors throughout her whole structure.

 

Then Sheppard was gone, sent back through the gate by a woman, was she perhaps the leader of these people? Gone in search of safe haven or another power source. Atlantis knew neither would be easy to come by. Sheppard was gone and she missed him already. 

 

But the other man was interesting. A scientist? She understood scientists, her makers had loved science and therefore imbued her with an appreciation for it. His mind was closed to her, she did not yet understand why, but his face clearly showed his awe and adoration for her, and she was pleased. ‘What was his name’, she wondered. She hoped she would have time to get to know him, but if her power kept draining away, soon she would be able to do nothing to prevent her shield collapsing, killing every one of the precious humans she now held within herself.

 

She watched the man, another of the humans called him ‘McKay’, a strange name, Atlantis thought, so unlike those of the Lanteans. McKay was like a living whirlwind within her, rushing from console to console, tapping madly at the odd portable device he carried clutched to his chest like a newborn babe.

 

“No!” he shouted, startling both Atlantis and the humans he berated. “What are you doing, you idiots? Now is not the time to go playing around with whatever databases the Ancients left, do you have any cells in those brains of yours at all? If we deplete the ZPM we will die, which part of that do you not understand? Just go and stand by the gate and wait like the cattle you and the rest of your peers so clearly are! And for God’s sake, don’t touch anything else.”

 

‘ _This way,’_ Atlantis tried to call out to McKay. _‘My power control room is this way, please, go. Do something, help us, help me, please.’_

 

But McKay merely continued poking and tapping on the device in his hands, frowning and waving away any who would speak with him, sending angry words after them for daring to interrupt.

 

Foreign, unfamiliar coding scratched at Atlantis’ mind as McKay tentatively crept into her interface, growing bolder as he realized that he was doing the right things in order to gain control of most of her systems. Given his brutal impatience when dealing with his fellow men, Atlantis was surprised at how gentle he was with her. He worked calmly, methodically, his face bordering on reverent as he shut down the least important systems he could find and tried to ease the strain on her diminishing power reserves. 

 

‘ _Thank you for trying.’_ Atlantis tried once more to reach him, but still, she could find no door into McKay’s mind. She watched him frantically try to save himself and his compatriots, and wished there was something she could do to aid him. But with her systems failing of their own accord, all she could do was allow parts of her shield to collapse and hope that she could keep the gate room safe for as long as it took Sheppard to return.

 

When he stepped through the gate and onto her floor once more, the warm glow of Sheppard’s mind was like a balm to her. But he brought with him no extra power source, merely more people. Survivors of a Wraith attack, he said. Atlantis gazed skywards, wishing she had the power to use her long range sensors. Where were the Wraith now? Were they waking or sleeping? How long would these fragile, beautiful humans walk her corridors before those living nightmares came for them?

 

Her power source called to her, almost depleted, and she knew her shield would be gone in moments. ‘ _I’m sorry’_ , she wanted to say. ‘ _Thank you for coming, thank you for finding me.’_ But her words reached no-one, and she grieved again. 

 

Then, just as she felt her shield begin to die, she was moving, breaking free of the ocean floor and hurtling toward the sunlight she’d craved for so many silent years. Her towers broke the surface and she was free. How had she done that? What miracle had saved them? It was certainly not of her doing.

 

The humans within her gasped and laughed, so relieved that they were still alive. Atlantis shared their relief, glad beyond all measure to be back where she belonged, on the surface, her spires and windows glinting in the sun. 

 

‘ _I did not do that’_ , she tried to tell Sheppard. ‘ _My makers must have built some kind of failsafe into me in case my shield was ever damaged. I am glad they did. I alone could not have saved you.’_

 

Sheppard still did not hear her, but she was content. She was back in the sunlight, the wind whistled around her once more, and human footsteps sounded throughout her. For now, it was enough.

 

# # #

 

“Major Sheppard, what are you doing in my room?”

 

Sheppard looked up, swaying a little where he stood. “McKay?” He blinked, trying to get his brain to function. “Your room?” 

 

“Yes, Major,” McKay’s voice held the bite Sheppard was beginning to expect every time he spoke to the man. “My room, did the note on the door not give that fact away? Or are Air Force officers incapable of noticing anything smaller than an F-16?”

 

Sheppard narrowed his eyes. “Helicopter pilot, McKay. Don’t fly F-16s. Or don’t physicists know the difference between rotor and fixed wing aircraft?” He rubbed at the back of his neck, God, what he’d give to just collapse on a bed and pass out for a few hours.

 

McKay opened his mouth, doubtless to give him an earful about exactly what his PhDs were actually in. People had already told him that McKay was some kind of genius as far as mechanical engineering went too, so he probably wanted to assure Sheppard in his own inimitable style, that he wasn’t a one trick physics pony. It was more than Sheppard could cope with at that moment in time.

 

He sighed, “Look, sorry. Didn’t mean to snap. I’m just tired, okay? Need a place to crash for a while.”

 

“Yes, well.” McKay rubbed his own eyes wearily. “I’d say we could all use some sleep. Sadly some of us are more vital than others, so I doubt I’ll be ‘crashing’ anywhere anytime soon.”

 

Despite the bone-deep tiredness eating at him and the deep, deep pit of horror in his stomach at what he’d done in the past few hours, God, he could still see Sumner’s aged, withered face as that _thing_ fed on him, Sheppard smiled faintly. “I’m ranking military officer now, McKay. I’m not vital?”

 

“Right now, I’d say vital personnel are people like me,” McKay replied confidently, rocking on the balls of his feet. “Those of us who have even the vaguest understanding of how to interface our generators with the power grid in the city are a little more important than people who know how to shoot things, don’t you think?”

 

The cold ball of guilt in Sheppard’s stomach increased in size, he hadn’t eaten recently, but if he had, he suspected he’d be throwing up right now. ‘ _I shot my commanding officer’_ , he thought, in ever growing horror. ‘ _Jesus, what the hell have I done?’_

 

“Major?” McKay took a step closer, concern etched on his face. “Um, are you okay?”

 

Sheppard swallowed down the fear and desperation and barely contained remorse that had kept him going for the past God knew how many hours and forced another smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just need some place to sleep. Sorry for intruding, I’ll go look for a spare room.”

 

“Maybe you should stay close by,” McKay said, then quickly added as he saw Sheppard’s raised eyebrow. “Close to the gate room, I mean. As you’re ranking officer and all that, perhaps you should be close to the gate in case there’s, well, an emergency.”

 

“You mean there might be an emergency you can’t save us from?” Sheppard snorted softly, laughter seemed out of place given the events of the past day, but McKay somehow made him feel a little less wound up. Maybe it was the mental effort required to banter with him, everything else seemed to fade into the background.

 

“It’s unlikely, but you never know,” McKay replied haughtily. “I am, after all, a genius, in case you didn’t know. And anyway, it pays to be prepared, weren’t you ever a Boy Scout?”

 

“Nah,” Sheppard shrugged, “they kicked me out.” ‘ _Why am I telling him this_ ,’ he wondered. ‘ _Of all the people to talk to, prickly, sarcastic McKay should not be my first choice.’_ He shook himself again and made for the door. “Anyway, I’ll get out of your hair. See ya around.” He grabbed the backpack that contained everything he’d been allowed to bring with him from Earth, and made for the door.

 

As he approached it, the door slid silently open without any help from him. He and McKay shared a glance. That was kind of odd. Then again, odd was relative and right now, an automatic door was the least of their worries, given that they had life-sucking aliens to deal with. Sheppard nodded once more to McKay and walked out into the corridor. 

 

As it hissed shut behind him, he wondered how the Ancients ever coped if they had a fight and wanted to slam the door on the way out. “Okay,” he muttered, “which way now?” 

 

On impulse, he turned left and wandered along the passageway, looking at the strange, presumably decorative panels on the walls. “Don’t think much of their interior decorating skills,” he murmured, well aware that he was talking to himself and not caring that it was the first sign of madness. He was probably at least half way there anyway. He let his feet carry him wherever they wanted, too tired and far too wrung out by recent events to pay much attention to where he was going.

 

Stumbling along almost blindly, he was surprised when a door slid quietly open as he passed it. He stopped and glanced around to see whether there was anyone else in the corridor who could have opened it somehow. Nope, nada. 

 

If he didn’t know better he’d say he was all alone in Atlantis, it was suddenly so quiet. Soundproofed living quarters? Who could say? The Ancients hadn’t exactly left blueprints and a list of what was where in the city. Either way, the silence in the hallway was starting to freak him out just a tiny bit and that open door looked oddly appealing.

 

“What’s the worst that could happen?” he muttered.

 

The room he walked into was nice, not huge, but a decent size, with nice big windows, he approved of that. As with the rest of Atlantis, the decor was weird, strangely angular and not at all something anyone would have thought to put in a bedroom back on Earth, and were those sparkly curtains at the windows? Sheppard didn’t care. There was a bed and as far as he knew no note proclaiming ownership had been stuck to the door, so from now on the place was his.

 

He managed to unlace his boots. God, how he hated having to have them laced all the way up. His mirthless snort of amusement sounded too loud in the still air, as did his wry mumble. “Benefits of being in command, don’t have to lace the damn boots all the way to the top anymore.” 

 

The rest of his clothes he didn’t bother with, taking them off was too much effort and he was far too tired. Faceplanting onto the narrow bed, he lay for a moment, contemplating again the horror of the Wraith and the purgatory he’d condemned himself to the moment he pulled the trigger to put Sumner out of his misery. Being ranking military officer of an expedition like this hadn’t exactly been on his to-do list. It was all too much to think about right then, and Sheppard hoped desperately that he could just fall asleep.

 

As he lingered on the edge of sleep, a thought occurred to him. Who had opened the door? He’d only been wandering past it, surely he hadn’t been close enough to trigger any mechanism to open it. 

 

He dozed off, still wondering. When he woke a couple of hours later, he remembered a soft tickling in the back of his mind, like cool fingers soothing his feverish thoughts. And a gentle voice that wasn’t really a voice, more like words that formed in his brain with no help from anyone. But that not-voice was calm and loving and told him that he’d come home. It told him that it belonged to Atlantis itself, that the city was pleased he was there.

 

Sheppard wasn’t really sure what to make of it. Maybe it was just a dream, he tried to kid himself, even as the quiet voice in his head grew a little stronger and laughed gently. He staggered to his feet and walked unsteadily into the small bathroom.

 

‘ _John’_ , Atlantis said.

 

Sheppard took an involuntary step backwards, although where he was going to go to escape the voice in his head, he wasn’t sure. How did it know his name? 

 

‘ _I can see your thoughts’_ , the city explained, ‘ _my makers gave me life enough to see their minds and help them in their daily lives. Let me do the same for you and your friends.’_

 

“You doing this to everyone?” Sheppard asked out loud, feeling incredibly stupid, talking to an empty room.

 

‘ _No_ , _so many of your people are closed to me. I can speak to few, and fewer still can hear me.’_

 

Sheppard felt a wave of overwhelming sadness and loneliness so acute, tears actually prickled in his eyes. He shuddered, the long years under the ocean must have been agony for something...someone, whose very design was to serve and protect. 

 

He swallowed nervously, “Huh. Must be the gene thing that got me on this trip in the first place. Apparently I’ve got a load of the same genes the guys who built Atlan-, er, you, had. So the technology they left behind works when I touch it. And apparently it lets me talk to their sentient city.” He swiped a hand over his face. “This just gets weirder and weirder. So, you just, kind of, linger in the background, right? I mean you’re not gonna go insane on me and try to take over my body and make me do stuff, right?”

 

He could almost feel Atlantis’ confusion before it replied. ‘ _No, John. I would never do that. I promise you will never come to harm by my hands.’_

 

“Okay then,” he said, reaching for his boots. Obviously he’d watched far too many bad sci-fi movies. “Um, gotta go, things to do, people to see, you know how it is.”

 

Atlantis’ silence proclaimed pretty clearly that the city didn’t really know how it was, but it was polite enough not to ask. 

 

Sheppard felt a headache spring to life behind his temples. He really needed to go and fly something. Maybe Doctor Weir would let him take one of those little puddlejumpers up and see what it could really do.

 

“Well, I guess I’ll see you later, honey,” he said out loud. “You have a good day, now.”

 

Atlantis pressed closer into Sheppard’s mind, ‘ _I am always with you, John.’_

 

“Oh, great,” Sheppard sighed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 

Her new inhabitants were far more interesting than the Lanteans had been, Atlantis decided.

 

Many languages echoed through her now, where once there had been only one. She blessed her makers again when she realized that the universal translator they had built into her still functioned flawlessly. Now, no matter where they hailed from on their home planet, every word her humans spoke was as clear to her as the original Lantean dialect she still loved.

 

They were so similar to her makers in looks, and yet so unbelievably different in temperament. Where the Lanteans had been passive by nature, more interested in seeking new ways to achieve Ascension than developing ways to fight the Wraith, these newcomers were fiery, determined to root out what the Wraith wanted and find out how to protect their home world at all costs.

 

Atlantis knew she shouldn’t listen in on so many private conversations, after all, she had been given her sentience in order to keep her own systems functioning, not to indulge in idle spying, but it was very hard to resist. Even with so few minds open to her, she still could not help but hear the happy chatter that now reverberated through her rooms and hallways.

 

The soldiers talked about battles they’d fought, friends they’d known and lost, wounds they’d received. Their friendly rivalry and camaraderie was tempered by thoughts of the Wraith. Atlantis could see dimly into a very small number of their minds and was saddened by the fear that lingered in them. The Wraith were a scourge upon all human kind, yet what could be done to stop them? As brave as her new inhabitants seemed to be, courage only went so far when facing overwhelming numbers.

 

The scientists, and there seemed to be many of them, bickered and talked constantly. Ideas and theories for things Atlantis had never heard even her makers discuss bounced back and forth between them like so many balls, as though by juggling them, the humans could make solutions appear from the ether.

 

When they discovered the laboratories, she felt their joy pulse through her, warm and vibrant, utterly infectious. 

 

McKay’s strident voice echoed through the largest lab, and Atlantis turned her attention to him to listen. 

 

“Okay, people. This is now officially my territory, so unless I’ve already given you the go ahead to sit your asses down and work within twenty feet of me, get yourselves out of this room and don’t come back until you’ve proven to me that you’re not complete morons who bought your degrees on ebay. Is that absolutely clear? Yes, Kavanagh, I’m including you in that, get out and stay out. The last thing we need is your incompetence flooding the city or blowing up our own generators.”

 

Even though she couldn’t see into his mind, Atlantis suspected that she liked McKay. He was so direct, so lacking in any of the formalities the Lanteans had perfected, his lack of restraint was almost refreshing to hear after being deafened by silence for so long. However, McKay’s companions made it clear to one another, when McKay could not hear them, that he was something known as a ‘pain in the ass’. Atlantis was unsure of the exact meaning of this phrase, but understood the tone in which it was so often said. McKay was not liked, then. How strange.

 

She knew, if she could, she would have spoken to McKay, whispered to him all the projects she’d seen the Lanteans working on, given him every detail of every experiment she had locked within her database. That would make him happy, she thought. Perhaps if he were happy, his fellows might enjoy his company a little more. If only his mind was more open to her.

 

 

 

# # #

 

On reflection, maybe getting Major Sheppard to push him off the balcony in the gate room was a little extreme, Rodney thought. But the rush of suddenly having Ancient technology react to him the way it did to Sheppard was so intoxicating, it really had seemed like a good idea at the time. As did asking the Major to shoot him. And asking Grodin to punch him. Who would have thought a personal shield could be so much fun?

 

Rodney frowned, should he worry about how willingly both of them had complied with his requests for physical violence to be inflicted upon his person? He shook his head, dismissing the thought, popularity wasn’t his life’s ambition so it wasn’t worth wasting his considerable brain power worrying about it. 

 

The boyishly joyful look on Sheppard’s face when Rodney had bounced up from the gate room floor, totally uninjured, had almost made the whole ‘unable to eat or drink’ debacle that followed worth it. Almost. A whole day without coffee had practically killed him. The caffeine withdrawal headache was only just beginning to fade and he was three cups into his own private stash of Kona. 

 

But still, Sheppard had looked, well, good was the only way to describe it, that beaming smile took years off him, he’d been looking worn and worried for weeks. Rodney frowned, now why on Earth, or should that be why on Lantea, would he be thinking about how Major Sheppard looked when he smiled? He shook himself, obviously the lack of coffee had driven him temporarily insane.

 

It had been quite a day, he mused, as he sipped at his fourth cup. Not only did he now have the ability to use the technology he’d been dreaming about for the past few years, he’d also surprised himself and amazed everyone else by showing them that he did have a backbone after all. Walking out to face that energy-sucking shadowy thing in front of the Stargate had been, quite frankly, terrifying. But knowing that he was doing it not just for his own good, but in order to literally save all of their asses, made it a little easier to bear. And knowing that Sheppard had his back had been rather comforting, although Rodney had no desire to delve too deeply into that particular thought.

 

‘ _You were very brave.’_

 

Rodney sat up straighter at his desk and looked around. He was alone in his quarters, the door was closed, and his radio headset was lying on his bed, a good six feet away. Yet he could have sworn he heard, or maybe somehow _felt_ , someone speak. Weird, it was like he knew the words had happened, but he didn’t actually remember _hearing_ them. More like they just appeared in his brain without warning.

 

“Okay,” he said out loud. “That was freaky.” He shook his head, maybe he was more tired than he’d thought. Perhaps sleep would be a good idea, before any more disembodied voices decided to compliment him.

 

‘ _Do not be afraid, Rodney.’_

 

“Right,” Rodney stood up, a little rattled now and bordering on pissed off. “Very funny, whoever you are, ha ha, good joke, you can stop now.”

 

‘ _Rodney, I do not wish to alarm you. Please, do not be afraid.’_

 

“What the hell?” Rodney swung round, peering into each corner of his room in turn. “Where are you? Who are you? How did you get into my quarters?”

 

‘ _I am everywhere, Rodney, please, do not be alarmed. I am sorry, I did not give you warning of my presence. I am simply so glad that I can now speak with you. I am Atlantis, and I thank you for ridding me of that creature. It had been here for so long, contained and powerless, I had almost forgotten how it felt to have it draining every last drop of energy from me. You saved me, and I am very grateful.’_

 

Rodney knew he was standing in the middle of his room, staring at the walls like a madman, with his mouth hanging open. But at that moment he really didn’t care. “Atlantis?” It came out as a squeak that reminded him of awkward teenage moments with girls, so he coughed and tried again. “Atlantis, seriously? You can talk?”

 

‘ _Indeed, Doctor.’_

 

“You can talk,” suddenly his legs were far too shaky to hold him up and he stumbled to the bed. “Atlantis can talk. And it’s talking to me. Oh my God, I can _talk_ to you.”

 

‘ _Yes, Doctor.’_

 

Rodney wasn’t sure, it was a little hard to tell, but he thought those two words were imbued with something approaching amusement, and a flush crept up his neck. “Yes, well. Forgive me for being a little slow on the uptake, it’s not every day you realize that you’re living in a city that can talk for itself.” 

 

A thought suddenly struck him and he stood up again, clicking his fingers in an attempt to get his mouth to work as quickly as his brain. “Wait, wait, is this a result of the ATA gene therapy that Carson gave me? I couldn’t hear you before, at least I don’t think I could. Can only people with the ATA gene hear you?”

 

‘ _If you are speaking of those among your party who carry genes descended from my makers, I believe you are correct. Since you arrived, I have been trying to speak with all of you, but so far only a very few have been able to hear me.’_

 

“Sheppard can hear you, can’t he?” Rodney said, and rolled his eyes. “Figures the Air Force would manage to muscle in on the single most important piece of technology the human race is ever likely to come across. I bet he’s been sweet talking you into upgrading the ‘jumpers, hasn’t he? Or making the water in his bathroom hotter for longer. Have you given him underfloor heating? Or a jacuzzi bathtub? His own personal coffee machine? A bigger bed?”

 

He wasn’t sure, but he thought soft laughter echoed through his head. 

 

‘ _No, Doctor. I assure you Major Sheppard has asked me for none of those things. Although he did ask whether I could ‘play around’ with the...puddlejumpers, do you call them? To discover whether I could increase their optimum speed and cruising power. Unfortunately, as yet, I have found no way of achieving such a thing.’_

 

“Typical flyboy,” Rodney said, shaking his head despairingly. “Give him access to the most complex database ever created, a sentient city of all things, and all he can think of is making his spaceship fly faster. Speed obsessed moron.”

 

‘ _Is there anything you would like me to access for you, Doctor?’_

 

The words seemed almost apologetic and Rodney felt himself fall a tiny bit in love. “Yes. Oh God, yes, you have no idea. Or, actually, maybe you do, can you read minds? Do you know what I’m thinking about right now?”

 

‘ _The desalination equipment,’_ Atlantis instantly replied. _‘You’re concerned about the falling levels of fresh water.’_

 

Rodney felt a wave of concern flood through him, carrying thoughts he clearly recognized as his own. Vague ideas, ideas he remembered having, as to how to get the system working quickly enough to supply all the fresh water the expedition needed, darted through his mind like minnows in a fast flowing stream.

 

“Okay, I get it,” he said, rubbing his forehead, damn, now he felt woozy. “You can hear what I think. Awesome. At least I won’t have to waste time talking to you the way I have to with those barely trained monkeys who call themselves my staff.”

 

Atlantis didn’t reply. Rodney smiled, at least the Ancients had programmed their city to know when no answer at all was, in fact, the best answer. If only the idiots he was forced to work with could be convinced of the same thing.

 

“Okay,” he rubbed his hands together, not in the slightest bit sleepy anymore. “I think a visit to the lab is in order. Do you know whether they have any food in the mess hall? Can you, you know, see?”

 

‘ _Yes, Doctor, I believe sustenance is available in the mess hall. As is liquid refreshment.’_

 

“If by that you mean coffee, I think I love you and do you have anything like a bucket-sized travel mug? I think this rather momentous occasion calls for an all-nighter.”

 

Atlantis’ gentle amusement floated through Rodney’s brain again, it was strange, he couldn’t really hear laughter, but he felt light hearted and cheerful and as giddy as a schoolboy. Not that he’d been a particularly giddy schoolboy, being smarter than his teachers had put something of a dampener on his early academic travails.

 

Grabbing his laptop and his favorite Sharpie, he darted out of his room toward the mess hall. A gallon of coffee and a few sandwiches and he’d be good to go until daybreak, maybe even longer if Atlantis was as helpful as he suspected she might be. He paused mid-stride. Huh, he’d called Atlantis ‘she’. Weird, he hadn’t meant to.

 

‘ _Are not ships and other vessels from Earth, designed to carry humans, referred to by a female pronoun, Doctor?’_ Atlantis pushed the words delicately into his mind. _‘I do not have any objection to being categorized as female, if that is what you wish.’_

 

“Excellent,” Rodney said out loud, causing a passing botanist to glance sharply at him. “Well then, if you’re ready, I suggest we go and sort out the mess the monkeys have doubtless made of the desalination equipment in my absence.”

 

 

 

# # #

 

Sheppard was trying to decide between the meatloaf and the lasagna for lunch. Honestly, neither of them looked especially like their equivalents back on Earth, but both fresh meat and pasta were hard to come by in the Pegasus galaxy, and their supplies were running low.

 

He narrowed his eyes at the meatloaf, it was mocking him with its low meat content, he was sure of it. They really needed to find a friendly planet with some kind of cow-like creature in the near future, even something resembling a sheep would do, or maybe pigs, surely pigs were a universal constant, weren’t they? He allowed himself a brief moment to remember the smell of sausages frying on a lazy Sunday morning. Oh, what he’d give for a simple hotdog, preferably in company with a good cold beer.

 

The only other person who seemed to be suffering as badly as him with meat-withdrawal was McKay, who groaned and bitched his way through every vegetarian meal the cooking staff served up.

 

Thinking of McKay, it wasn’t like him to miss lunch. Sheppard glanced around the mess hall, it was half full, but McKay usually sat at one of the corner tables and glared at anyone who tried to join him, making him fairly easy to spot. But today he was definitely not there, which was both strange and slightly troubling. 

 

Normally only the threat of imminent death or a discovery worthy of a Nobel could keep McKay from his food. Neither were good things, in Sheppard’s opinion. Death, bad for obvious reasons, discovery worthy of Nobel, bad because things generally blew up a little bit before Rodney figured out how to use the damn technology the Ancients had seen fit to leave lying around.

 

“Major?” The fresh-faced corporal behind the counter smiled uncertainly at him. “Meatloaf or lasagna, sir?”

 

“Two meatloaf,” Sheppard said firmly. Whatever McKay was up to, he’d thank Sheppard for bringing him lunch, and anything that staved off a hypoglycemic fainting fit made Sheppard’s day that little bit easier.

 

# # #

 

“McKay?” Sheppard nudged the lab door shut behind him with his foot and cautiously made his way into the center of the room, the tray of food clutched firmly in both hands. 

 

He’d been in this lab many times before, having been summoned to act as a light switch for McKay or one or other of the science team, and knew that things tended to be lying abandoned on the floor, waiting to trip the unsuspecting visitor.

 

It annoyed the hell out of McKay that the tech on Atlantis didn’t react to him the way it did to Sheppard. When something glowed or hummed or turned on for Sheppard when it had been lying dormant in McKay’s hand only a second before, his face was always the same. Barely contained anger that he had to get someone else, and a flyboy at that, to turn the stuff on for him, warred with the most joyful excitement Sheppard had ever seen. 

 

Maybe that was one of the things Sheppard liked about McKay, the guy was incapable of hiding his feelings. Every emotion was there on his face for all to see. After so many years of schooling his own features into something approaching respectful attentiveness when confronted with senior officers who didn’t know what they were talking about, Sheppard appreciated McKay’s complete lack of facade.

 

“McKay, you in here?” he called again, having received no answer the first time. A groan was the only reply he got, so he figured it meant yes, McKay was somewhere nearby. Looking before putting his feet anywhere, Sheppard went further into the lab, leaving the tray on one of the long work benches.

 

A pair of feet came into view, followed by the rest of Rodney. He was sitting on the floor, his back up against a cupboard, surrounded by laptops, tablets and a small forest of Ancient doodads, all glowing and humming happily. Rodney himself had the most beatific smile on his face that Sheppard had ever seen on any human being, much less on the sharp-as-razor blades head of science.

 

“McKay?” Sheppard pasted on his ‘I’m dealing with not-so-friendly-natives’ smile, wondering whether Rodney had finally cracked and had a breakdown of some kind. “Wha’cha doin’?”

 

McKay beamed up at Sheppard and, whoa, had his eyes always been that blue? Sheppard swallowed hard and remembered how to breathe after a second of staring, greedily drinking in all that bright blue enthusiasm. 

 

“Sheppard,” Rodney seemed genuinely pleased to see him, which was odd, he usually treated everyone with the same level of long-suffering annoyance. “Oh my God, Sheppard, is she always like this? Isn’t she amazing? When I think of all the things we can do, the things she can help me understand, my God, there’s nothing we can’t attempt, you get it? This is huge, this is like, I don’t know, discovery of the coffee bean huge, this is incredible.”

 

Sheppard took a step back, fingers twitching down toward his nine mil. This was definitely not the Rodney McKay he was getting to know. Rodney McKay was snappish and sharp and sarcastic to the point of rudeness. He didn’t babble happily and smile so widely that his eyes crinkled up at the corners, which was, apparently very distracting to certain Air Force Majors. 

 

“Rodney?” Sheppard drawled out, trying very hard not to look into those bright eyes. “You okay, buddy?”

 

“I’m fine,” Rodney said, with more of a bite to his voice, Sheppard relaxed a little, maybe he wasn’t possessed after all. “Can’t you keep up with simple English? I’m talking about Atlantis, isn’t she amazing? The things she knows, the details she’s got hidden about stuff the Ancients were working on, it’s incredible.”

 

“The things she knows,” Sheppard echoed, then caught up with the conversation. “Oh, you mean you can hear it too? The city, it talks to you as well?”

 

“Not ‘it’, Sheppard,” Rodney frowned and rested a hand on the floor as though petting an annoyed cat. “She’s not just another piece of tech, she’s so far beyond anything else the Ancients created, you can’t think of her as ‘it’, it’s rude. And yes, she does talk to me. At least she does now, after Carson worked his voodoo magic and gave me the ATA gene. Has she talked to you like this all along?”

 

“When you say ‘like this’, what exactly do you mean?” Sheppard leaned back against a table and assumed his usual slouch, the one he’d perfected over time to piss off as many of his commanding officers as possible. “How does she communicate with you?”

 

“Hard to describe,” Rodney replied, back to talking a mile a minute as he usually did. “It’s like words appear in my head and I know they’re from her, I can’t exactly hear a voice but I know there’s one there somewhere, it’s just really well hidden. She knows what I’m thinking, she can see into my head, which is by the way, terrifying, but she promises she never looks at the personal stuff which is a relief because my own mental porn isn’t something I want to share with a sentient city with a broadcast capability.”

 

Sheppard blinked. 

 

Rodney rolled his eyes, “Oh, come on, Major. Is that the best reaction you’ve got? How does she talk to you?”

 

“Pretty much the same,” Sheppard admitted, “words in my head, kind of like hearing a voice but not quite. Freaked the hell out of me the first time I heard it.”

 

“‘Her’, Sheppard, not ‘it’,” Rodney frowned. “And yes, it was a little unsettling at first, but now...” He shook his head, apparently lost for words. 

 

Sheppard wished he had a camera on him, a speechless McKay was something everyone should see. He sneaked a glance at Rodney from under his eyelashes, he was buried back in his laptop again, fingers flying over the keys. Damn it, those hands were as mesmerizing as his eyes.

 

Sheppard closed his own eyes for a second. It had been a long, long time since he’d felt anything even approaching attraction to another guy. Choosing between flying and men had been hard, but flying was always going to take priority, so he’d stuffed his feelings into a mental box and sealed them off in a dark corner of his head. In almost twenty years, no-one had made him go near that box, but he had the uncomfortable notion that McKay was going to get under his skin in a way nobody, not even his ex-wife, had ever managed.

 

Leaving the lab was really a good idea, before he got himself in over his head. Sheppard knew he should go, but Rodney had that happy smile back on his face as piece after piece of tech worked for him and somehow Sheppard’s feet seemed to be stuck to the floor.

 

‘ _I am glad Doctor McKay is pleased with my capabilities.’_ Atlantis pressed the words gently into his head, and Sheppard couldn’t help but grin. 

 

‘Pleased’ was probably the understatement of the century, if Rodney’s expression was anything to go by. _‘Does he always look like that when he’s really enjoying himself?’_ Sheppard wondered, and instantly hated himself. He was the military commander of the expedition, he had no time and definitely no place to be wondering what one of his scientists looked like when they were having sex.

 

“I brought lunch,” he said quickly, hoping he could distract himself from thoughts that he really shouldn’t be having about Rodney McKay.

 

“Lunch?” Rodney frowned. “Is it that time already?” He yawned hugely and stretched out his shoulders. 

 

“How long have you been in here?” Sheppard asked, suspecting he knew the answer as he looked more closely at Rodney’s pale face and the circles under his eyes.

 

“Um, most of the night?” Rodney screwed up his face and shrugged. “I got a little carried away when Atlantis started talking to me, although, in my defense, pulling all-nighters is hardly new. I don’t think I’ve slept properly since we got here.”

 

Sheppard nodded slowly, thinking of his own broken nights. It was rare to get more than a few hours sleep at a time. Most nights he was woken from nightmarish dreams about the Wraith by urgent calls from Elizabeth or Carson or sometimes Rodney himself, each with another looming crisis that required his attention. Exhaustion had become second nature, so familiar he barely noticed it anymore. But they needed Rodney to be able to think clearly, a fuzzy-minded head of science was no use to anyone.

 

“Come on,” he said, extending a hand to Rodney, who blinked at it owlishly. “Bed. Now.”

 

Rodney’s chin instantly shot up in a gesture Sheppard was learning to associate with extreme stubbornness and a guaranteed argument. “I’m not one of your grunts, Major. You don’t get to order me around. I’ll go to bed when I damn well want to and not before, okay? The simulations I have running...”

 

“Will wait for a couple of hours,” Sheppard broke in calmly. “Tell someone else to keep an eye on ‘em and to call you if anything goes boom.”

 

“And they seriously let you fly multi-million dollar aircraft with an attitude like that?” Rodney groused, clambering to his feet and wincing at the audible ‘pop’ his back made as he straightened out. 

 

“Yeah,” Sheppard smiled his best surfer-boy smile, the one calculated to annoy practically everyone. “Good times. Anyway, you, bed.”

 

Rodney looked as though he was marshalling another argument but ruined it by yawning again. “Fine,” he managed to say. “But don’t blame me when the city blows up.”

 

“I’m sure she’ll warn me before we get to that point,” Sheppard said soothingly. “Won’t you, honey?”

 

‘ _Indeed, Major Sheppard,’_ Atlantis agreed.

 

The two men shared a glance.

 

“You heard that, right?” Sheppard said.

 

Rodney nodded. “So she can talk to both of us at the same time. That could be useful.”

 

“And annoying.” Sheppard jerked his head toward the door. “Come on.”

 

Rodney stumbled out of the lab ahead of Sheppard, stopping only to grab his plate of lukewarm meatloaf. He nodded to Sheppard and weaved off down the corridor to his quarters. 

 

Watching him go, Sheppard couldn’t help but notice that McKay had a particularly nice ass. He mentally sighed, he was so screwed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

 

Humans were fascinating. Being alone in the dark and cold for so long, Atlantis had almost forgotten how it felt to have life within her, to hear regular, steady heartbeats echoing though her corridors. Doctor Beckett seemed to be some kind of miracle worker, as the gene therapy he’d given to Doctor McKay also worked on half of the rest of Atlantis’ new population. 

 

She remembered the silence, how hollow and cold she’d been down on the ocean floor. Warmth prickled through her as someone’s elbow carelessly brushed one of her doorways. If she could feel contentment with her lot, she imagined that she would now be humming with it.

 

From being almost unbearably alone, she now had a multitude of minds singing in her consciousness. Listening to them was akin to hearing a symphony. A symphony of thoughts, soaring to heights she had all but forgotten, sinking to despairing depths she knew so well and burbling along in the background, reminding her that loneliness could no longer reach out to her.

 

So many minds, so many connections to make, so many things she could explain and help with. That was, after all, her primary purpose. If she had the ability and opportunity to aid her occupiers, would her makers not thank her for doing so?

 

But few among the humans were as open to her as Sheppard. He remained as brightly glowing as ever in her mind, although Doctor McKay was not far behind him. Rodney’s brain was so active, so far beyond any other within her walls, Atlantis sometimes found it hard to believe that he was Earth-born. Surely genius of that caliber must be attributed to Lantean genes, even if their contribution was now in the far distant past of McKay’s family tree.

 

It amused Atlantis to see Major Sheppard try to hide his intelligence. Why he felt the need to allow others to think he was no more than the sum of his parts, she wasn’t sure. He was a hard man to understand and Atlantis often spent many hours puzzling over his complexities. 

 

Sheppard loved and hated his role as military leader with a passion that surprised her foron the surface he didn’t appear to be a man given to deep emotions. A deep-seated dislike of following orders battled with his natural desire to lead. He worried that he was becoming one of the overbearing officers who had dogged his career thus far. 

 

Wracking guilt plagued him incessantly, his mercy-killing of Colonel Sumner and the deaths of others back on Earth, even though Atlantis knew, from the few thoughts he allowed himself to have about those comrades, he could never have saved them. 

 

Loyalty to and fierce protectiveness of those he shared Atlantis with burned brightly through him. On his regular trips through the Stargate, Atlantis heard him swearing to himself that no-one would ever be left behind, regardless of the situation. She felt his own fear of being lost on a lonely planet far from home and wished there was more she could do to bring him back to her walls safely.

 

It took her many more months before she realized that the home Sheppard so longed to return to was not in the Milky Way. Earth held little draw for him, but his thoughts lit up and glowed like primeval fire in the inky blackness of a Pegasus night when he thought of her. She was his home now. He wondered how long he would be allowed to stay there, with the magical city that could understand every word he said, and those he didn’t utter. Warmth flooded through her as she realized she’d become the home he’d wanted for so long. If he could stay forever she would gladly watch over him for every second of it.

 

With Sheppard’s thoughts as clear to her as her own, Atlantis knew how often he had ideas about matters the science department were working on, often with limited success. Once or twice she ran Sheppard’s ideas through simulations of her own and was pleased to see that his predictions were close to being correct. Physics and such like were not his forte, that crown was squarely with Doctor McKay, but his mathematical skills were practically unequalled among the minds she had access to. 

 

When he was close to sleep but unable to drift off into dreams, she would hear him running equations through his head, losing himself in the numbers, finding beauty in their simultaneous simplicity and complexity. It was a good simile, Atlantis thought. Sheppard himself was at once beautifully simple and painfully difficult to understand. 

 

It was not her place to find serenity in the humans who inhabited her, but sometimes, if it was particularly peaceful, with no threat from the Wraith, and nothing but the sound of waves lapping against her piers, she would listen to Sheppard’s numbers and smile.

 

# # #

 

When he’d signed up for the Stargate program, Rodney had never really considered the fact that it might irrevocably change his own personality. To be honest, the idea of getting to play with a real live ZPM had actually turned him on to an embarrassing degree and he’d happily signed on the dotted line, confidentiality agreement and all. 

 

He’d told Elizabeth, right before they dialed the gate to Pegasus, that he’d never been so excited in his entire life. How he’d managed to contain himself, he still wasn’t sure. Yes, it was very likely to be a one way trip, but Earth had never really made him terribly welcome and he doubted he’d miss it all that much. There were always people on Earth who were willing to either mock him or jump on the jealousy bandwagon because they simply couldn’t understand things that he found relatively straightforward. 

 

Rodney had learned very early on that being brainy didn’t make you many friends, and now, at the ripe old age of thirty six, he was reconciled to the fact that he was kind of a lone wolf. Friends were unnecessary hindrances who either skipped out when a guy needed them the most, or only hung around in the first place in order to get their homework done for them.

 

But being out in the wild blue yonder that was the Pegasus galaxy, things changed, reality got a little more real and a lot more scary. Friends weren’t hindrances anymore, they were necessary.

 

“You’ve changed,” Gaul said, choking out the words and trying desperately to suck more oxygen into his ruined body. Poor son of a bitch, he didn’t stand a chance. The bastard of a Wraith that had attacked him knew exactly how much life to drain and how much to leave him with in order to gift him a long, drawn-out death. “You really wanna get out there.”

 

“Shut up,” Rodney said the words half-heartedly, knowing deep down that Gaul was right.

 

“Don’t get me wrong,” Gaul gasped, “I’m impressed. You want in the fight. The Rodney McKay I knew would never...”

 

Rodney didn’t really want to hear whatever else Gaul had to say. It was one thing knowing that he’d changed, another thing entirely to realize that other people could see it too. But there was an itch under his skin that kept him pacing back and forth. That itch kept pushing him, prodding and poking at him to leave Gaul to die with as much dignity as he could muster and get out there to help Sheppard, who was, knowing him, trying to take on a ten thousand year old Wraith on his own.

 

John Sheppard, therein lay the root of his problems. Sheppard was annoying, lazy and slovenly in ways no Air Force officer should be, but somehow that only made him more endearing. His careless grins and flirty eyes caused no end of trouble on planets where the indigenous peoples took them to mean that Sheppard wanted to either sleep with or be married off to someone as fast as possible. Rodney still had bad dreams about PRX-9532, where they’d literally had to throw themselves through the ‘gate back to Atlantis after the Governor took offense to Sheppard politely refusing to marry his daughter. Really, the girl should have had more decorum than to try to rip John’s shirt off right there in the main square.

 

Rodney knew that, in different circumstances, he’d probably loathe Sheppard and all that he stood for. He was the kind of guy who had made Rodney’s high school years a living hell. But right now, a ridiculously long way from home with no lockers in sight to be stuffed into, Rodney felt, well, he liked Sheppard, and that was odd. Yes, the man was good looking in a surfer-boy kind of way but that had never been a turn on for him before. 

 

Rodney’s brief experimental phase had gone as far as necking with a couple of guys in college and that was pretty much it. Now, he caught himself watching Sheppard and wondering what he’d taste like, whether stubble-rash was as bad as girls made out and whether sex with him would be as awe-inspiring as Sheppard’s loose-limbed swagger suggested.

 

“Go, Rodney, just go.” Gaul’s pallor had worsened, he looked like a dead man who simply hadn’t given up breathing yet. “Save the day.”

 

Rodney turned away, torn between wanting to get out of the damned Wraith wreck and help Sheppard, and the need to stay with Gaul as John had practically ordered him to do. Gaul’s finger tightening on the trigger of the gun held weakly in his right hand solved Rodney’s dilemma. 

 

He looked at the dead man, wondering whether the Wraith would ever decide they’d been responsible for enough death. He personally had seen far too much of it. And he was damned if he was going to sit there and wait for John Sheppard to play the martyr, sacrificing himself in a vain attempt at killing the Wraith that had fed on its own crew in order to stay alive.

 

The run over sand dunes from the wrecked Wraith ship back to their own puddlejumper was horrible. Rodney puffed and muttered and swore under his labored breath. He wasn’t built for running, he avoided it at all costs and now here he was, literally dashing to Sheppard’s aid. Sheppard better have a good way of thanking him, he thought darkly as he narrowly avoided falling on his face for the third time. Stupid sand, it was impossible to keep his footing.

 

As he’d expected, by the time he arrived back at the ‘jumper, Sheppard was all set to do his martyr act. Rodney’s mouth actually dropped open in amazement as he watched the Major, who was obviously certifiably batshit crazy, take on a very pissed off Wraith with nothing more than a combat knife.

 

Rodney did the only thing he could think of, taking aim as best he could and pumping his whole clip into the monster. He was vaguely impressed that so many of his shots hit home, but more concerned with the fact that the Wraith absorbed the wounds as though they were mere gnat bites, and turned angrily toward him.

 

Luckily, Ford and his team arrived in another ‘jumper just in time to blow the bastard to kingdom come, or whatever the Wraith believed in as an afterlife. 

 

Rodney looked at Sheppard, slightly dazed and bemused to find that they were both still somehow alive. Sheppard was dirty and bruised and the bandage around the bullet wound on his arm was starting to come loose. Rodney swallowed, and wondered whether lack of water was the only reason his throat was suddenly so very dry. Would Sheppard punch him if he tried to steal a quick kiss? Because really, looking like that, the Major was downright irresistible, even after the screwed-up day Rodney had had. Or maybe because of it. Stress made people do crazy things, didn’t it? And wanting to throw Sheppard down onto the floor of the ‘jumper and suck hickeys onto his neck definitely fell into the realm of ‘crazy’.

 

Sheppard was as straight as a guy could be, Rodney had no doubt about it. All the women on Atlantis swooned over him and a couple of the Marines looked at him in ways that put their careers in danger. Wanting him would bring Rodney nothing but frustration and self-loathing, he was pretty certain.

 

So, Rodney clenched his hand around his empty gun and tried to smile at Sheppard’s obvious attempt to lighten the atmosphere. “You can drive.”

 

“Oh, thank you,” Rodney made himself say, although if he was honest, he was genuinely pleased that Sheppard trusted him enough to fly one of his prized ships all the way back home to Atlantis. 

He couldn’t afford to waste time mooning over the Major, it would distract him and eventually drive him a little bit more nuts than he already was. And him being nuts would naturally lead to the downfall of Atlantis because really, who else was there to keep her running beside him?

 

So, Rodney got to work on disarming the shield that the Wraith had somehow hot-wired onto the ‘jumper and very deliberately didn’t make eye contact with Sheppard until they were safely back in Atlantis, where he immediately hid in his lab and didn’t come out for a week.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 

Love was a difficult emotion. Of all the feelings that flowed through her, mostly courtesy of her Earth-born inhabitants, love was the one that fascinated and perturbed Atlantis the most. It was strange, apparently love could be both subtle and glaringly obvious, sometimes simultaneously. Her makers had not imbued her with much of an understanding of human affection, what use would it have been to have a city that understood love? But with the newcomers within her, she began to learn more about that one single emotion than her programming said was possible.

 

She found herself watching avidly all the small dramas love created every day. Couples met, recognized mutual attraction, quarreled, parted, some came back to each other, others parted for good. Some bypassed the formalities and went straight to a carnal level that Atlantis took great care not to observe. People deserved some privacy, even from her.

 

But not all love was the same, it seemed. There appeared to be a thousand nuances and variations of it, most of which she could barely understand. Those humans whose minds she could hear all seemed to hunger for some form of this odd emotion, whether they were willing to admit it or not. The longer she observed her population, the more Atlantis came to realize that there were many different kinds of love, far more than the Lanteans had ever displayed.

 

Brotherly affection between the soldiers glowed warmly in her mind. The desire to keep one another safe in this frightening new life forged bonds that most of the young men and women had never experienced back on Earth, or so their thoughts told her. Atlantis watched and waited to see how they would react when those bonds were broken, by the Wraith or by any other cause. How would those brave soldiers react to losing some of their own? Did their affection make them more vulnerable or were they better for it? Did it give an edge to their skills, truly caring about those with whom they stood shoulder to shoulder, facing whatever horrors the galaxy could throw at them? She knew they would not have long to wait to find out. One way or another, the Wraith would discover the location of the city of their most hated enemies, and their fury would come raining down on her precious occupants’ heads. How would love help her soldiers then?

 

The warm, almost gentle sentiments between the soldiers were thrown into sharp contrast by the lust and desire that pulsed and sparkled through Atlantis at most times of the day and night. Her makers had experienced similar feelings, when faced with someone they found attractive, but, as was their way, had not shown their emotions overmuch. These new humans apparently had fewer social barriers and she was bombarded by thoughts, the like of which she had never before heard. Perhaps the stress of living so far from home, in constant danger, made some of her humans deliberately seek out sexual relationships, if only to reassure themselves that they were in fact still alive. Or maybe it was an attempt to establish some degree of Earth-like normality, as though by following their own age-old courting rituals, they could renew memories of their homeworld.

 

The Lanteans had been of the opinion that most relationships should involve a man and a woman, if only to ensure that their race continued to procreate. Occasionally one of them would flout convention a little and dally with someone of their own sex, but mostly the status quo remained unchallenged.

 

Some of her new inhabitants harbored feelings for members of their own gender. But few spoke these feelings aloud or acted upon them, at least in public. Atlantis was surprised to notice that many of her more out of the way rooms, particularly, for some reason, store cupboards, were being used as meeting places for secret trysts. Why so many of these relationships were kept secret, Atlantis wasn’t sure. 

 

She hovered near to a transporter, watching a pair of Marines who had just given each other considerable pleasure in one of her unused labs. She had averted her gaze during the actual act, and concentrated on the work Doctor McKay was doing five floors above the men, as was only proper. But now she listened to them, one of them carried the Lantean gene and his thoughts were almost as clear to her as Major Sheppard’s.

 

“...can’t keep doing this,” one of the soldiers whispered, although who he feared would overhear him, Atlantis didn’t know. The area they were in was deserted, having been damaged by flooding not too long ago. The man went on, clutching at his companion’s arm. “What if we get caught?” 

 

“We won’t,” the other soldier said confidently. Atlantis heard his thoughts, _‘God, I hope we don’t. I don’t want to screw my career up just because I like guys.’_ Out loud, he said, “Don’t worry about it, nobody’s going to see us and anyway, if they do, who are they gonna tell? Don’t tell me you haven’t seen the way the Major looks at the crazy scientist he’s got on his team. If anybody’s in danger of getting his ass kicked over DADT, it’s Sheppard, not us. We’re just grunts, we don’t know any better, right?”

 

They entered the transporter and returned to their separate quarters, promising to meet again the next day if the situation allowed.

 

Atlantis withdrew into herself a little and wondered what the Marine had meant. Certainly Major Sheppard looked at Doctor McKay, they worked very closely together, so avoiding eye contact would be unnatural, would it not? How much could be assumed from the way one human looked at another? And why was Sheppard in danger of getting his ‘ass kicked’? She had no answers to these questions, and for the first time in more years than she cared to consider, she was curious. Perhaps devoting a little more of her time to watching Major Sheppard and Doctor McKay would broaden her understanding of human emotions and give her some clues to the answers she sought.

 

 

 

 

 

# # #

 

“McKay, Teyla, you okay?” Sheppard adjusted his grip on his P-90, the solidity of it soothing him slightly. Ford didn’t twitch, the stunner had knocked him out entirely and he lay limply at Sheppard’s feet. 

 

Everything had been going so well, RTS-9321 seemed like a decent planet, tree-infested like every other planet in the Pegasus galaxy appeared to be, but on the whole, not too bad. The people who lived there were friendly enough. They were wary of strangers and suspicious of anyone who came through the Stargate but after generations spent watching Wraith darts shoot through the ‘gate and grab anyone unfortunate enough to be caught out in the open, who could blame them?

 

After the usual preliminaries and polite small talk, they’d been invited to sit down to some kind of meal in the main meeting hall. This was the part of off-world missions Sheppard really didn’t enjoy too much, trade negotiations. Invariably long-winded, often impossible to follow given that they were trading with and for things that he barely knew the names of, and always boring as hell. Sheppard generally sat back and tried to look as though he knew what he was doing, while letting Teyla do all the actual negotiating.

 

The tribal chief they were speaking with was a lean, grey-haired man, the lines on his face showing the worries he bore. Sheppard guessed he was in his early sixties and hoped he looked a little better when he reached that age. Assuming he lived that long, of course. In Pegasus it wasn’t a good idea to plan too far ahead, he wondered vaguely whether his will was up to date, should he specify who he wanted to leave his newly acquired surfboard to, if the worst should happen? He smiled faintly, PQX-8752 was a fantastic planet, awesome surf. And the girls were hot, too. 

 

A boot made contact with his ankle beneath the rough wooden table and he stifled an indignant yelp, turning it into a spluttering cough. He looked up and saw McKay glaring at him. For a moment he lost himself in the man’s eyes, damn, were they always that blue? He blinked a few times, trying to make his brain work again and failing utterly. McKay raised his eyebrows and kicked him again, flickering his gaze toward the chief for a second, then locking back onto Sheppard.

 

“Yes, absolutely,” Sheppard said, sitting up straighter and wondering what he’d missed while he’d been daydreaming. “I agree with Teyla.”

 

Teyla made a tiny huffing noise that would probably have been a full-blown snort of derision from anyone else. Rodney rolled his eyes and looked pained. Ford grinned, his default response to anything that involved Sheppard getting stuff wrong.

 

With a charming smile at the chief, Teyla said smoothly, “I think Major Sheppard means he would be happy to take a look at your armory. It would be an honor to assist you in any way we can in the fight against the Wraith.”

 

The chief gave Sheppard a narrow look but let the matter slide and moved on to talk about trading something called Yava. Sheppard sent up a prayer that it was similar to coffee because their stocks were getting seriously low. 

 

Teyla seemed to have the hang of bartering, she and the chief were soon trying to beat one another down as to how much they each had to pay for the things they wanted.

 

Sheppard glared at Rodney, trying to convey that retribution for the kicks would follow as soon as they were back on Atlantis. Rodney blithely ignored him, instead munching his way through the food in front of him, only stopping once he reached a plate of some kind of bright red fruit, which he eyed suspiciously. Before he thought about what he was doing, Sheppard pulled the plate over to him and took a bite of one of the fruits. He shook his head as he pushed the plate back toward Rodney.

 

“You’re fine, no citrus.”

 

Rodney frowned slightly but didn’t say anything, which made Sheppard wonder whether he might have just done something rather stupid. McKay always had a comment for every situation. Rendering him speechless, or, more specifically, unwilling to speak, wasn’t something Sheppard had any experience with.

 

“Er, sorry?” he said, slouching back in his chair and trying to look nonchalant.

 

“What?” Rodney said, the frown still in place, although now it was the ‘oh God, I’m talking to a moron’ frown rather than the worryingly unreadable one of a minute ago. 

 

Sheppard waved at the fruit. “Sorry for, you know, being your royal food taster. Didn’t think.”

 

A smile tugged at Rodney’s crooked mouth. “No need to apologize, Major. I appreciate your forward thinking, keeping me from instant death by alien citrus is most definitely a good thing.”

 

Sheppard felt his own lips curve into a grin, and knew he was staring at Rodney’s mouth for just a little too long. But it was kind of addictive, as vicious as the words that flew out of it usually were, the way it slanted, even more so when he smiled, was really incredibly attractive. He shook himself, daydreaming was one thing, daydreaming about Rodney McKay’s mouth while they were on a mission was something else.

 

He sensed rather than saw Teyla stiffen beside him. “Teyla?” he said quickly, “What’s wrong?”

 

Her eyes were fixed on the ceiling, but she obviously wasn’t seeing it. “Wraith,” she said hoarsely.

 

“What?” Ford and McKay said in unison.

 

“Here, now?” Sheppard said, already on his feet and reaching for his weapon. Adrenaline surged through him as Teyla nodded. “Get to the ‘gate. Ford, move.”

 

Ford hurtled toward the door, Rodney on his heels. A pair of burly guards suddenly appeared to block their way, and Ford growled something uncomplimentary under his breath.

 

Teyla rounded on the chief, “What is the meaning of this? There are Wraith here at this very moment, I feel their presence. You must get your people to whatever safety you have or risk their being culled. Quickly, there is no time.”

 

The man stepped back, away from Teyla’s quiet fury. “I am sorry,” he said softly. “You cannot be allowed to leave. The Wraith will spare us if we deliver you to them.”

 

“What?” Sheppard could barely believe his ears. “What the hell are you talking about? You need to get your goons out of our way and find someplace for you and your people to hide, right now, do you understand?”

 

The chief shook his head, looking genuinely upset. “No, Major, we are in no danger. The Wraith are eager to talk to you and your friends from the city of the ancestors. If we give you to them, they will leave us in peace, they gave us their word.”

 

“You have got to be kidding me,” Sheppard spat. “The Wraith have a...a _contract_ out on us? Un-freakin’-believable.” He swiped his P-90 from where it lay on the table, glinting ominously in the dim light from the reed lamps dotted around the room. “Tell your men to move.”

 

“Major...” the chief began, but Sheppard swung around and aimed at the biggest of the men blocking the doorway.

 

“You either move or die. Your choice.”

 

The men looked from their leader to the squat barrel of Sheppard’s gun, and back again. As one they seemed to decide that discretion was the better part of valor. They moved backwards enough to allow Ford and McKay to slip past them into the main square.

 

Sheppard was pleased to see that Teyla’s usual calm hadn’t left her, even though her eyes were glittering dangerously. “Teyla,” he snapped, trying to keep his own voice from shaking, _shit_ , the Wraith had set _traps_ for them and they’d blundered straight into one. “Go. I’ll take our six. Get Ford on point. You and he get McKay to the ‘gate. If the Wraith have it open already, take whatever cover you can and as soon as they disconnect, dial Atlantis. Do not wait for me, get Rodney through the ‘gate as soon as it connects. You understand?”

 

Teyla nodded and sprinted from the room. That was one of the things Sheppard liked about her. She didn’t bother with words when none were required. Plus she could kick his ass without even trying, so she was nice to have around as backup.

 

“We’ll be going now,” he said, eyes fixed on the chief. Would one captive be considered better than none? Either way, it was time he was leaving. “We won’t be back. Thanks for the...whatever it was you gave us for dinner.”

 

“You will not reach the ancestral ring,” the older man said dolefully. “My people cannot allow it. It is for our own safety that we do this.”

 

“Right now I’m more concerned about my safety,” Sheppard replied, backing out of the door. ‘ _And Rodney’s’_ , was his unspoken thought. _‘Gotta keep Rodney safe.’_

 

 

 

# # #

 

The main square was surprisingly empty. Sheppard grimaced, no doubt the villagers were waiting to ambush them on the path to the Stargate. There was no sign of the others, hopefully they were already making good progress toward the ‘gate and safety.

 

With a last look around for anyone attempting to creep up on him, Sheppard ran. The ‘gate was about two miles from the village and he was glad he made the effort to run most mornings. Crashing noises in the woodland ahead of him, along with liberal amounts of swearing, alerted him to the fact that he was catching up with the rest of his team. 

 

“Come on!” he yelled as he caught sight of McKay tugging at his sleeve, which had snagged on a branch. “Move, dammit!” Grabbing hold of McKay’s upper arm, he all but dragged him along with him, ignoring McKay’s startled squawk of protest. 

 

Ford and Teyla were only a few steps ahead of them, both had their weapons trained on the dense forest around them. 

 

“Teyla, where are the Wraith?” Sheppard hissed, then felt ridiculous. McKay’s complaining would already have alerted the Wraith to their location, being quiet now wouldn’t help much. 

 

Teyla shook her head, “I do not know. Not close, I believe they may have made for the town, doubtless they wish to speak with our supposed captors.”

 

“Great,” Sheppard wiped sweat out of his eyes with his sleeve. “How’s the ‘gate looking, Ford?”

 

“Villagers all around it, sir,” Ford answered quietly. “But it’s not dialed out. Wraith must have closed it when they came through.”

 

“Why would they do that?” Sheppard said, frowning.

 

“Maybe the fact that they consider themselves to be at the very top of the evolutionary ladder has something to do with it,” McKay snapped, fingering a cut on his cheek. “They probably don’t think we’re likely to give them the slip and manage to escape.”

 

Sheppard had a totally inappropriate urge to run his fingers along the cut too, just to make sure Rodney was in fact one hundred percent okay. Giving himself a mental slap, he coughed and said, “Okay, well, whatever the reason, it means we can get the hell out of here. Rodney, you good to dial Atlantis?”

 

“Of course I am,” Rodney replied, his words dripping with scorn. “I’m scared, not stupid.”

 

“All right then,” Sheppard obsessively checked his weapon again. If it meant staying alive, he could deal with being called paranoid. Plus, there were in fact people out to get him, so he was totally justified. “Ford, Teyla, let’s try not to kill these people. It’d look bad on our resumes.”

 

Moving as silently as they could, they crept forward, aiming for a small gap in the ragged line of people surrounding the Stargate. Luckily there was plenty of cover, the ‘gate was slap in the middle of the forest, and they were practically at the DHD before anyone saw them.

 

“They’re here!” a young, thin man yelled and pointed wildly. “Here, over here!” 

 

“Dial the damn ‘gate, Rodney,” Sheppard barked, firing a quick burst into the air above the approaching villagers. They all ducked and scurried for cover, giving Rodney the time he needed to punch in Atlantis’ dialing code.

 

Ford suddenly collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. Teyla snarled and fired at the Wraith warrior that had stunned him.

 

Another Wraith appeared to Sheppard’s left and he poured a three second burst into it. It staggered and fell, but tried to get up again.

 

“McKay, Teyla, you okay?” he yelled. Behind him the wormhole connected, its luminous blue glow more welcome than ever before.

 

“Fine!” Rodney shouted back, a nine mil in his hands. His face was rigid with fear but he squeezed the trigger smoothly enough. 

 

Sheppard almost wished he had the time to be impressed but Teyla was tugging Ford along by his tac vest, heading determinedly for the ‘gate. More Wraith were appearing from every direction, so he gave them some cover fire and hoped Ford wasn’t too heavy for her to move.

 

After what seemed like an age but was in reality only seconds, Teyla and Ford vanished through the ‘gate.

 

“Come on,” Sheppard grabbed Rodney and pushed him into the event horizon, following him a heartbeat later.

 

“Shield!” he yelled as soon as Atlantis materialized before him. “Get the iris up, now!”

 

The ‘gate shield blinked into life and Sheppard breathed freely for the first time in what felt like years. “Everyone okay?” he asked hoarsely. 

 

“We are fine, thank you, Major,” Teyla replied, her calm voice soothing his strained nerves.

 

Rodney didn’t answer, he was still staring at the Stargate, horror darkening his eyes. Sheppard took a half step toward him but whatever it was he planned to say was lost as Carson appeared with a med team and began hustling them all away to the infirmary. 

 

 

# # #

 

By the time Sheppard stumbled into his own quarters he was ready to drop. 

 

The inevitable post-mission-from-hell check up with Carson had taken forever. Honestly, if there was a worse mother hen in the galaxy, Sheppard hadn’t yet met them. Then Elizabeth had called them all, with the exception of Ford who was still a little woozy and out of it, to her office for a debrief that went on for so long, it made Sheppard want to gouge out his own eyeballs, just for a reason to leave.

 

Teyla was her usual unruffled self, answering Elizabeth’s questions with polite earnestness. Rodney looked like Sheppard felt. Pale and drawn, he yawned loudly and pointedly every few minutes and gave far shorter answers than normal.

 

“Well, I guess we may as well leave it there for now,” Elizabeth said, rising to her feet. Sheppard resisted the urge to thank any god that was listening for allowing the meeting to end. “I’ll admit it’s worrying that the Wraith are so determined to find us, they’re resorting to putting out contracts on our off-world teams. But, as we have no idea which worlds they’ve visited and which they haven’t, it seems counter-productive to suspend off-world missions. I suppose we’ll just have to be more vigilant in future, and hope that we can take out the Wraith before they find us.” 

 

She frowned at Sheppard and Rodney in turn. “Take the rest of the day off and get some sleep, you both look like you need it. You too, Teyla. I’ll radio Carson to tell Lieutenant Ford he’s relieved of duty until he’s firing on all cylinders again.”

 

Sheppard managed a weary nod and half smile as he levered himself out of his chair. As always, with adrenaline slowly draining out of his system, he was cold and shaky and so tired it _hurt_.

 

Rodney wandered alongside him toward the sleeping quarters. He was strangely quiet, his brows drawn together in a deep frown.

 

Sheppard bumped shoulders with him and said, “’S’up?”

 

“What’s up?” Rodney’s voice was a touch higher than normal, Sheppard inwardly winced and prepared for the inevitable tirade. “What’s up is the fact that we nearly got ourselves sold to the Wraith. Those people were completely prepared to hand us over, with absolutely no thought to the consequences. I mean, do they have any idea of how valuable I am? With the stuff I know about Atlantis, I’m like the Wraith’s unicorn, I’m the freakin’ Holy Grail. If those freaky bastards got hold of me, can you even imagine what they’d do with the data I’ve got in my brain? They’d find Atlantis, they’d know all about the shield, the cloak, the weapons array, the command chair, you...” he closed his eyes and grimaced. “This is getting a mite too dangerous for my finely-honed sensibilities.”

 

“Hold up a minute,” Sheppard held out a hand to stop Rodney and turned to face him. “Are you saying you want me to take you off the active off-world roster?”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rodney snorted. “I’m too important to stay here and too important to be out there, so it’s kind of a catch twenty-two, isnt it? I didn’t mean I wanted off your team, I was just having a slight panic attack. I assume that’s still allowed in this galaxy.”

 

“It’s allowed,” Sheppard smiled faintly, then frowned. “Hey, what do you mean they’d know about me?”

 

“Come on, Major, you’re not as dumb as your hair suggests,” Rodney said tiredly. “I ran tests while you were in the command chair, and, like pretty much everything else I’ve ever worked on, the results are stored somewhere in my head. The perks of a photographic memory, or not, as the case may be. If the Wraith managed to get into my head, they’d know you’re the one best suited to using the chair. So they’d probably double their efforts to either kill you or catch you, neither of which appeals to me in the slightest.”

 

Sheppard forced a confident grin and suppressed a shiver at the thought of the Wraith hunting him down. “Aw, you mean you’d miss me if I was gone?”

 

A faint flush stained Rodney’s pale cheeks, he shuffled his feet awkwardly then started walking again.

 

Smiling for real this time, Sheppard followed him.

 

# # #

 

Atlantis watched as Sheppard tugged off his boots and collapsed onto his bed. His weariness was cold, heavy, tainted with worry. 

 

She knew the Wraith would stop at nothing to find and destroy her. During the war, so many years ago, there had been multiple occasions when her makers had believed all was lost, the Wraith were coming and little could stop them. But, by some miracle, she still existed. The Wraith were not yet masters of their galaxy, but their insatiable hunger would, sooner or later, lead them to her. And who would fight them? Who better than Major Sheppard? His mind fitted so well alongside hers, it was hard to believe he had not always been with her. 

 

Listening more closely to his thoughts, she heard him worrying about the safety of his teams venturing off-world. It struck her as a measure of him that he didn’t worry very much for his own safety, only for those around him. He also worried for her, he was almost frightened at the thought of the Wraith finding her.

 

‘ _I will endure,’_ she whispered softly to him. _‘In all my years, the Wraith have not yet destroyed me. Nor will they, with you here.’_

 

“Oh God, I hope so,” Sheppard muttered out loud. Sighing, he left his bed and went into his bathroom. 

 

Atlantis felt him think the water on in his shower and eagerly responded, anxious to show him just how precious he was to her. 

 

At length, he finally vacated the shower and returned to his bed, now dressed in soft, loose clothes that hid his lean frame. His thoughts drifted vaguely, changing shape and direction as swiftly as clouds driven by a stiff breeze. Suddenly one stood out, loud and strong. _“Rodney.”_

 

Atlantis thought she should perhaps withdraw and leave him to his pondering, but curiosity prickled within her mind, and she stayed. 

 

In her own mind’s eye, she saw Sheppard’s recollection of the day’s mission. Fractured images of meeting with the indigenous peoples, negotiating with their chief, eating strange food he didn’t entirely trust, flickered through her, there one moment and gone the next. Icily cold fear slid into her consciousness as he remembered realizing that the Wraith were there and in search of him and his team. _“Gotta keep Rodney safe.”_ That thought played around Sheppard’s head for quite a while, Atlantis wondered why he felt so much more protective toward Doctor McKay than to his other team-members.

 

Then she was running through dense forest with him, branches and leaves whipping at her face as Sheppard recalled his run to the tenuous safety of the Stargate. Hot battle anger and cool professionalism warred within her as he remembered defending the ‘gate in order to get his team through it. 

 

Suddenly an image of Doctor McKay flashed into Atlantis’ mind. He was holding a weapon and firing at an approaching Wraith warrior. Sheppard seemed loath to move away from this image. He examined it in fine detail, noticing the sweat beading on McKay’s upper lip to the firm grip he had on his gun and the lack of tremor in his hands. He lingered on a close-up of McKay’s face, wondering at the blue of the other man’s eyes and finding something amusing in the determined slant of his mouth. The soldier in him appreciated how solidly McKay stood his ground and methodically fired at his attacker. Each bullet hit home, two to the Wraith’s head, two to its body. With a rush of surprise, he realized that McKay was actually pretty good with a gun.

 

Quick as a flash, red-hot desire raced through Sheppard and, consequently, through Atlantis. He wondered what it would be like to kiss that crooked mouth and see one of McKay’s rare genuine smiles directed solely at him. Oh, so _that_ was what the Marines had meant by ‘the way Sheppard looks at that crazy scientist of his’. Major Sheppard had feelings for Doctor McKay. 

 

Atlantis didn’t exactly understand the concept of loving or desiring someone. But all the same, she felt every part of her tingle with warm pleasure at the thought of Sheppard falling in love. By nature he wasn’t a solitary man, but somehow past events in his life had made him into a cautious one. Perhaps not cautious in battle, where he was entitled to be a little circumspect, but definitely on a personal level. Atlantis saw past his easy smiles and calculated slouch, but suspected that few of Sheppard’s own kind did. 

 

Except perhaps Doctor McKay. There was another singular character. He seemed to revel in the solitude created by being miles ahead of everyone else as far as mental capacity went. But, finally having access to his thoughts, Atlantis now realized that he used it as a barrier, a wall to hide behind. Secretly, he desperately wanted to be accepted and liked, but after being an outcast for so long, had no idea how to trust anyone who offered friendship for fear of being hurt once again. Except perhaps Major Sheppard.

 

Withdrawing into herself once more, Atlantis ruminated. If Sheppard and McKay were only willing to trust each other with their friendship, perhaps it made sense that Sheppard found himself thinking of Rodney in a more romantic way. Did McKay share those feelings? She could easily find out, but hesitated. 

 

If he did indeed have some kind of affection for Sheppard that was more than a friend would have, what then? If Sheppard’s thoughts were anything to go by, he did not intend to inform Rodney of his attraction to him, at least in the foreseeable future. What if Rodney was as reticent with his feelings? Would they go on working together, good friends who simply smiled at one another as they passed in her corridors, hiding the fact that they each wanted to connect on a much deeper level with the other?

 

She didn’t think it was possible for her to feel annoyance, but some kind of residual vexation niggled at the edges of her consciousness. It was probably a result of all the frustration and anger that flowed around her on a daily basis, perhaps it was beginning to permeate her programming. Sheppard and McKay were both intelligent men, both feeling the effects of solitude that was not really of their own making, both hungry for affection but neither willing to admit it. Why should they not enjoy one another, if that was what it took to make them happy?

 

Her makers had not created her with the intention of meddling in her inhabitants’ lives, but as she pondered, she became more convinced that she was justified in intervening. Sheppard and McKay were both vital to both the safety of her and every human within her. If they were unhappy, they could not work to their full potential. Just this once, and never again, she would take matters into her own virtual hands. And luckily, she knew exactly how she could do it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

 

Exploring the many miles of corridors and seemingly endless acres of empty rooms Atlantis boasted had sort of become Sheppard’s downtime hobby.

 

As military leader of the expedition, time to himself was something of a precious commodity, hard to come by to say the least. Sometimes it seemed that no matter which way he turned, somebody wanted him to do something, whether it was to take on a Wraith hive ship or simply poke a piece of Ancient tech that would turn out to be nothing more dangerous or interesting than an egg timer.

 

On the rare occasions that he found himself with an hour of his own time to squander as he alone saw fit, he’d run a hand along Atlantis’ wall and think, ‘Take me someplace new and show me something cool.’ As unobtrusive as always, Atlantis would silently show him an outline of the parts of herself that hadn’t yet been explored by anyone from the expedition team. He’d give a mental nod in the vague direction he felt like going, and she’d send quiet directions straight into his brain. All he had to do was follow and wonder at the things the Ancients had spent their time building.

 

If he sometimes decided to spend his jealously guarded free time with Rodney by asking him to go along and keep track of all the interesting things they found, well, that was nobody’s business but his own. Every time he radioed Rodney and said, “Hey, wanna come explore and find some new stuff?” he tried to convince himself that he didn’t think of these little outings as dates. Rodney was his friend. It wouldn’t be right to think of him as anything else, because honestly, the guy had never given him any sign that he even noticed that Sheppard was interested in him. Talk about oblivious. It wasn’t as though Sheppard even knew for certain whether McKay was gay or not. It hadn’t cropped up in conversation so far, and Sheppard was kind of happy to keep it that way. If the words, “Hey, Rodney. Do you like to sleep with guys?” ever passed his lips, he thought he might die of shame right then and there.

 

So, he explored Atlantis and marveled at the architecture and the weird and wonderful gizmos that sent Rodney into paroxysms of joy. And if he sneaked more than a few glances at Rodney’s ass as he bent over long-disused consoles and had a few embarrassing moments where his daydreams got a little too vivid and made him find a convenient desk to hide behind, nobody was any the wiser. 

 

Neither, apparently, was Rodney, who kept on babbling about the things he could do to manipulate the new tech he was finding to make it somehow useful to the expedition. He didn’t seem to realize that Sheppard’s gaze often lingered on his mouth just a shade too long or that when he lay on his back under a console and poked at it, Sheppard had to fight down the urge to just pin him there and kiss him senseless.

 

So when he next had a free afternoon, Sheppard thought nothing of asking Atlantis to point himself and Rodney in the direction of something new and interesting. When she responded a tiny bit more quickly than usual, he didn’t notice.

 

Atlantis smiled to herself and guided them swiftly to where she wanted them. If ever there was a chance to make the two of them see just how deep their feelings for one another actually ran, this was it.

 

# # #

 

“What is this place?” Sheppard squinted up at the ceiling as though he expected the answer to be written there.

 

Rodney resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but only because the Major tended to look even more attractive when he did the squinty-eyed thing and he didn’t want to miss the chance to appreciate the line of Sheppard’s jaw. God, that jaw was just right to nibble on...Rodney dragged his thoughts to a less ‘R’ rated world and consulted his tablet. “At this precise moment in time, Major, I have no idea what this place is. Why don’t you ask Atlantis if she can throw me a bone and let slip a clue or two? She is the one who directed us here, after all.”

 

“Why do I have to ask?” Sheppard demanded.

 

“Because you’re Atlantis’ favorite,” Rodney replied in his ‘this is so obvious I shouldn’t have to waste my breath putting it into words’ voice. “She’ll tell you anything you want. She’s got a not so secret crush on you.”

 

Sheppard chuckled and threw him one of those warm grins that he didn’t seem to bestow on many other people, save perhaps for Teyla. “Aw, McKay, you jealous?”

 

Rodney felt a flush begin to steal over his cheeks and cursed the fact that his family was prone to being fair-skinned. If he had to be honest with himself, and as far as John Sheppard was concerned, it was something he tried very hard to avoid, yes, he probably was a tiny bit jealous at the thought of anyone harboring any kind of crush on him. The fact that he found himself being jealous of a sentient city just proved that being out in another galaxy had sent him hurtling over the edge of ‘eccentric’ and spinning rapidly toward ‘insane’. Plus, Sheppard was your typical all-American guy, straight as straight could be, wondering what he’d do if Rodney just pushed him up against the wall and kissed him was a quick way to a mental breakdown.

 

“Jealous that a city wants to metaphorically jump you and your genes?” Rodney said instead, adding the eyeroll this time, just for good measure. “I don’t think so.” He tapped at his tablet again and checked the life signs detector, he’d re-calibrated it to show any anomalous energy readings when they were off-world. As he expected, it didn’t pick anything up besides the softly glowing consoles that filled the room Atlantis had guided them to. 

 

“Okay then,” he announced, stuffing the little life signs detector back into his pocket. “Room filled with consoles, no idea what they do or why they’d be all together so far out on the East Pier. Time for me to work my magic I guess. I can see why you insist on me coming along on these little jaunts of yours, Sheppard. I mean, let’s face it, I am the only person remotely likely to be able to figure things like this out. Well,” he corrected himself, “maybe Zelenka or Simpson might stand a chance but that’s about it. Seriously, the caliber of the people they gave me...” Rodney shook his head sadly, silently mourning the declining standards of graduates of science programs worldwide.

 

“Hey, Doctor Genius,” Sheppard said dryly, “when you’re done congratulating yourself on being the smartest man for a couple million light years, come take a look at this.”

 

Rodney glanced up from his tablet to see Sheppard staring at something in the far corner of the room. Moving a little closer, he saw that it was a chair, very similar in design to the main control chair but a little smaller in size. 

 

Like the main chair, the one before him had squashy gel-like pads on the arm and handrests, as well as some in the headrest. The science team were still working on trying to figure out the exact chemical composition of the gel but without much success. As far as they or anyone else could see, it somehow allowed Atlantis to interface directly with the user’s brain, very useful for weapons control and suchlike, as snap decisions were made without the human in question being truly aware of them, reducing the time lapse between thought and action.

 

“Is it another control chair?” Sheppard said, running his fingers along the delicately wrought arm. “Why would they need two? Backup, maybe?”

 

“I don’t know,” Rodney said slowly, his fingers flying over his tablet. If he could find a control panel on this chair the way he had on the other one, he could run a diagnostic and try to find out its exact purpose. Movement in the corner of his eye made him look up. “What the hell are you doing?”

 

Sheppard had been about to lower himself into the chair, and was now holding himself up by resting his weight on his hands, which were braced on the gel armrests. “Research,” he said brightly and sat down.

 

Rodney bit back the torrent of curses that sprang to his lips but only because the consoles around them had sprung to life as soon as Sheppard’s ass hit the chair. “Uh, I would say whatever you’re doing, stop it, but I know you won’t listen to me, so at least try not to activate too many systems until I can patch myself into one of these consoles’ interfaces, okay?”

 

Sheppard grinned and nodded. “Sure, I’ll just keep the seat warm till you’re ready to try it out yourself.”

 

His fingers flying over the tiny tablet keyboard, (seriously, why did they make them so small?), Rodney soon had his own tech hooked up with the control panel of the biggest console in the room. He had no explanation for why he’d chosen that one, but his lizard brain told him bigger was better, and he wasn’t about to argue.

 

Suddenly, without any warning, the lights in the whole room dimmed. Bright spots of blue light glowed in the floor and vague, shadowy shapes began to form in them. It was as though they were made of mist, they were see-through and fuzzy around the edges, but soon began to sharpen and come more into focus.

 

“Sheppard?” Rodney said in alarm. “Are you doing this?”

 

“I don’t know,” Sheppard replied, a slight edge of worry to his drawl indicating that he wasn’t entirely sanguine with the whole thing. “Maybe? I think the chair’s taking thoughts out of my head and projecting them for some reason.”

 

“Why is there a 3-D image of a football stadium in front of me?” Rodney said, cocking his head to one side and staring at the, admittedly very detailed, misty form. “Oh my God, there are players in it!”

 

“What?” Sheppard yelped.

 

“I can see tiny little players and a crowd,” Rodney replied, gazing raptly at the shadowy man who had just scored a touchdown. He switched his attention to the next image. “Where do you get off thinking about Ferris wheels and fairgrounds? I can see a miniature Ferris wheel complete with passengers and something that looks like the Cyclone at Coney Island. Your inner child really does take over at times, doesn’t it?”

 

“I like fairgrounds,” Sheppard said, sounding a little hurt. “They’re fun. And they have the best food. I haven’t had a corndog or cotton candy in so long, I think I’m forgetting what they taste like.”

 

Rodney snorted, suddenly craving junk food too. “Okay, this makes more sense, I can see a helicopter.” 

 

“Black Hawk, you can see a Black Hawk, Rodney,” Sheppard said sharply, cracking one eye open to glare at him.

 

“Okay,” Rodney resisted the urge to throw something at Sheppard’s head. “So _why_ can I see a Black Hawk and a fairground and a football stadium and, okay, that’s new. Now I can see Atlantis, like a tiny image of the whole city. Hang on, it’s changing. I can see people, Elizabeth, Teyla, Ford, Zelenka, loads of Marines...” He frowned, what was all this supposed to mean? 

 

There was one blue spot left without an image floating above it. As Rodney gazed expectantly at it, a single human figure blossomed out of the vague misty smoke that swirled and churned in mid-air. “Uh, Sheppard?” 

 

“What?”

 

“Why are you thinking about me?” The smoky figure was very definitely Rodney, the detail was actually kind of scary. Rodney watched the tiny version of himself wave its hands around, obviously in great agitation, its mouth moving a mile a minute. “I don’t look like that. And I certainly don’t gesticulate that much, do I?”

 

A muffled snort from Sheppard was his only answer.

 

Rodney pinched the bridge of his nose, this was another of those apparently unfathomable devices that the Ancients had seen fit to leave lying around, just waiting for rash Majors to activate them.

 

“Okay then, we have five images, presumably taken directly from your thoughts, projected here in front of us. I suppose the main question is, why? What use would something like this have been to the Ancients? Why did they need to be able to see what one another were thinking?”

 

“I don’t know that it’s projecting stuff I’m thinking about,” Sheppard said, flexing his fingers on the gel handrests in a way that threatened to utterly derail Rodney’s higher thought processes. “I mean, yeah, I miss fairgrounds and I’d kill to fly a Black Hawk again but I wasn’t thinking about them as I sat down in this chair. At least, not consciously.”

 

“So, it shows you things you want?” Rodney guessed.

 

“Like the Mirror of Erised,” Sheppard said helpfully.

 

“Oh God, tell me you’re not a Harry Potter fan,” Rodney groaned, dropping his head into his hands.

 

“Apparently you are,” Sheppard smirked, “or you wouldn’t know what the Mirror of Erised is.”

 

“Nobody likes a smart-ass flyboy, you know, Major,” Rodney said, but with no real heat behind his words. In fact, to his own ears, he sounded dangerously fond. This was bad, if he went on like this he’d be confessing that he actually found Sheppard’s wayward hair rather adorable and longed to see what it looked like first thing in the morning. 

 

“Everybody likes a smart-ass flyboy,” Sheppard said quietly. “It’s what they expect.” Rodney got the idea that Sheppard had intended to say something more, but had bitten it back.

 

Shaking his head to try to focus his thoughts a little more, Rodney said, “So this device shows, in a vague corporeal form, things that we want, even if they’re buried in our subconscious. But it still begs the same question as before, why? What does it achieve? The Ancients were obscure at times, but they didn’t do things for no reason. And why is there an image of me?!” His voice rose on the last word and he flailed a hand at the smoky Rodney, who was still talking madly, but thankfully, silently.

 

“Beats me, buddy,” Sheppard replied, not quite managing to sound convincing. He sat up abruptly, rolling his neck from side to side. “Okay, I think that’s enough probing into my subconscious for one day. Let’s go find lunch, huh? I hear they have something that might vaguely resemble chicken on the menu today.”

 

“Hmm,” Rodney said, distracted by his tablet and the diagnostic he was running on the biggest console.

 

“It’s chocolate pudding day, too.” 

 

Sheppard’s voice was suddenly far too close. Rodney looked up sharply and just managed to avoid stepping backward. Sheppard was peering over his shoulder, staring at the lines of code on his tablet screen.

 

“You like chocolate pudding, right?”

 

Rodney made a noise that possibly only dogs could hear, and cleared his throat before trying again. “Yeah, of course. Who doesn’t like chocolate pudding?”

 

Sheppard smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well then, leave the obscure Ancient doo-dad and come have lunch with me.”

 

Rodney found himself nodding and trailing out of the door, barely a step behind Sheppard. As he left the chair room, he wondered why Sheppard had suddenly become so interested in food when Rodney had asked about the reason for the image of himself. If the chair showed things that the person sitting it wanted, then was it possible, was it even _feasible_ , that perhaps Major Sheppard, all-American flyboy extraordinaire, harbored some deep-seated yearning for him?

 

It was a thought that made Rodney’s head swim. Chocolate pudding was always the answer to a swimming head, so he pushed past Sheppard and led the way back to the mess hall.

 

That room definitely needed more investigation, but he didn’t think he’d be filing a report about it to Elizabeth. Not just yet, at any rate. Perhaps he’d make Sheppard sit in the chair a few more times first, purely in order to gather evidence and look for replication of results, of course.

 

 

 

# # #

 

Atlantis watched the two men leave the mostly deserted East Pier and make their way back to the more populated areas of herself. Everything was going as she had planned, if it were possible for her to be pleased with herself, she imagined she would be. 

 

Doctor McKay would go back to the room, of that much she was absolutely certain. His hunger to understand the science behind the technology would draw him there, but the desire to find out whether Major Sheppard truly did have feelings for him would also be too much to resist.

 

Whether the Major would be as quick to return to the chair, she was not sure. But Doctor McKay seemed to have magical powers when it came to convincing Major Sheppard to do things he did not necessarily wish to do. At some point, be it sooner or later, the two of them would find themselves back in that room. And hopefully at that point, they would discover just what the true purpose of that particular chair was.

 

# # #

 

Sheppard dodged into an alcove when he saw McKay walking down the corridor. It wasn’t that he was avoiding Rodney, far from it. But every time they spoke, Rodney managed to slip questions about that damned chair into the conversation and it was starting to get a little annoying. 

 

He had no idea what the Ancients had used the chair for, but the fact that it somehow had the power to delve very deeply into his head was beyond worrying. That Rodney had seen the things he supposedly wanted, however far into his subconscious the chair had needed to go in order to find them, was frankly terrifying. 

 

Yes, he wanted Rodney, wanted him to the point of distraction sometimes. The number of times he’d stretched out on his bed and fallen asleep wondering what it would be like to feel Rodney’s hands on him were simply too many to keep track of. But, there were just too many things standing in his way. His career for starters. He’d put over twenty years of his life into the Air Force, given up any hope of ever having a relationship with a man, broken up with his wife over his constant absence from the family home, well, work was important wasn’t it? Apparently not in her eyes. Nope, he’d sacrificed too much to the altar of the Air Force to allow something like DADT to get him kicked out now.

 

The other thing holding him back was the fact that he was scared, plain and simple. What if he went all out and told Rodney just how he felt, the things he wanted to do, the feelings he’d been hiding for so long...and Rodney rejected him? What would he do then? His working relationship with the man would be torn to shreds, as would their friendship, which Sheppard truly valued. It just wasn’t worth the risk. He’d have to make do with what he had. Rodney was the best friend a guy could ask for, wanting more was just greedy, wasn’t it?

 

Sitting in that stupid chair had been incredibly rash and impulsive. Sheppard wished he’d never seen the thing. But, done was done. The only thing to do now was to simply avoid ever sitting in it again.

 

# # #

 

Rodney eased himself out from beneath the console next to the ‘screw with Rodney’s head’ chair. He’d taken to calling it that for want of a better name. Just saying ‘the chair’ had started to confuse him, what with there being another chair and all.

 

“Okay, let’s see what you can tell me about what you’re supposed to do,” he muttered, attaching his laptop to the crystal control panel he’d just exposed. His radio earpiece crackled and Zelenka’s tinny voice came through it, demanding to know where he was. “I’m working,” Rodney snapped. “As you should be. Now stop bothering me, you’ll see me when you see me, I’m busy being brilliant. Leave me alone.”

 

Just why he’d taken to spending every spare minute he had in the ‘screw with Rodney’s head’ chair room, he couldn’t quite explain. Okay, it was more that he didn’t _want_ to explain, he knew exactly why he kept going back. The chair had shown things Sheppard wanted, maybe things he missed from back on Earth, or things he felt strongly about. That would explain the tiny, recognizable as members of the expedition team, moving around in the 3-D Atlantis the chair had projected. But it had also shown an image of him, good ol’ Rodney McKay, in all his ranting glory. Why had the chair singled him out to receive a smoky image all of his own? Or had Sheppard subconsciously singled him out?

 

He pursed his lips and rubbed a hand across his forehead. Damn, this room got warm at times, he was already sweating. Sheppard was refusing point blank to come back and sit in the mind-reading chair again. He’d reached the point of actively avoiding Rodney, which was annoying, although he was always fairly easy to corner at dinner. Once he had a plate of food, he’d rarely leave it unless the city was in mortal peril or someone needed him to fly a nuke into space, so all Rodney had to do was sit down at the same table and start talking. 

 

Unfortunately, Sheppard possessed a stubborn streak at least as wide as his own, so they’d reached something of an impasse. Rodney would say, ‘The chair isn’t going anywhere, you know. Still there. Still don’t know what it’s for.’ Sheppard would look at him with those deceptively lazy eyes and simply say, ‘No.’ And that would be that. Rodney cursed fluently, damn the man for having the nerve to be attractive, smart and stubborn all at once.

 

He cursed again as he banged his head on the underside of the console. That was it. Damn it all, he was hot, sweaty, tired and getting precisely nowhere. His laptop was bringing up nothing of any use so he irritably disconnected it from the crystals in the console’s control panel. 

 

“Okay, fine, you win,” he snapped at the chair. “I’ll sit in you, go on, do your thing, show me what I want most in the whole wide world.”

 

He sat down and tried to think of something that involved food. Even the sight of a Big Mac right now would do him good, it had been so long since he’d had a real, honest to God burger made of real, honest to God beef.

 

But try as he might, he couldn’t stop the images that floated into his mind. Atlantis, with her graceful spires and brain-meltingly complex operating systems. He saw himself among his peers back on Earth, being lauded and praised and awarded a Nobel. Jeannie, smiling and laughing at her new husband, then tenderly cradling Rodney’s baby niece with a softness in her eyes that he’d never seen before. Samantha Carter, she of the bright blonde hair and shining blue gaze. He saw her grinning at him as they hammered out solutions to impossible questions together. 

 

And finally, Rodney saw Sheppard. So many images of the Major flashed behind his closed eyelids, he started to feel dizzy. Sheppard, grim and determined, P-90 in hand. Sheppard smirking and grinning. Sheppard doing that thin-lipped thing he did when he was thinking really hard. Sheppard, smiling that slow, secret smile that Rodney wanted to believe was only ever meant for him. And Sheppard, simply staring into space, weariness emphasizing the lines around his eyes.

 

Sheppard was only human, only another person and Rodney had always been sure that he wasn’t the type to get overly attached to people, but...Sheppard was one of the things that kept him on the right side of sane most days. Hell, maybe knowing Sheppard was around to back him up if the situation suddenly went to crap was the main thing that kept Rodney going. If Sheppard wasn’t around, life wouldn’t be nearly as bearable. Plus, there was also the fact that Rodney found the man unreasonably attractive and fantasized about what they could do together.

 

Something almost like a satisfied sigh echoed through Rodney’s mind. Had that come from Atlantis? It must have. Why was she so happy all of a sudden?

 

‘ _You have your answer, Doctor McKay.’_

 

“What?” Rodney said out loud, frowning up at the ornate ceiling. “What answer?”

 

‘ _As to the use of this technology.’_

 

“It shows us things we want, big deal,” Rodney snapped, in no mood for riddles.

 

‘ _Yes,’_ Atlantis said. _‘And no.’_

 

“It shows us things we want but can’t have?” Rodney thought of the image of Sheppard and his secret grin. “Things we wish were ours but are ridiculously beyond our reach?”

 

‘ _The things that make you human.’_

 

Rodney bit the inside of his mouth and thought for a moment. Then, as though rain clouds parted and the sun came streaming through, he realized. “It’s an Ascension device. Or, maybe some kind of Ascension teaching device? It showed the Ancients what they were still hanging onto. The things that they didn’t want to give up, the things...” he nodded at how apt Atlantis’ words had been, “the things that made them human. They saw what they needed to learn to let go of in order to Ascend.”

 

Atlantis didn’t reply, but an odd sense of peaceful satisfaction settled over Rodney, similar to the feeling he got when he managed to do something no-one else could, and did it outstandingly well.

 

“So the things I just saw are the things I don’t want to give up,” he said wonderingly. 

 

Well, it made sense. He’d die before he gave up the chance to live and work in Atlantis, the city had kind of become his raison d’etre. And he did desperately want that Nobel, if Ascension meant losing the chance to get it, well, it was a no-brainer as to which he’d choose. Of course he wanted to see Jeannie again, even if it meant putting up with her English major of a husband. Seriously who wanted to major in English of all subjects? Sam Carter, he smiled a little. Smitten with Sheppard he might be, but he still had to admit, she had a great rack. And her brain was even more attractive than her body. Working with her was exciting in ways he’d never really understood. Pinging ideas off of one another was exhilarating. Give that up in order to Ascend? No, he was really fine as he was, thank you very much.

 

And finally, John Sheppard. Rodney rolled his eyes at his own dim-wittedness. How had it taken him this long to figure out what the damned chair did? Of course he wouldn’t Ascend if it meant leaving Sheppard behind. 

 

Abruptly, he sat up straight, his fingers digging into the gel of the handrests. Shit. Sheppard had thought of him. _He_ was one of the things that Sheppard wouldn’t give up in order to Ascend. Sheppard wanted to stay with him. Ergo, Sheppard liked him. Perhaps a little more than just as good friends? He swiped a hand over his face, unsurprised that he was sweating profusely. Sheppard liked him. It was a dizzying thought. He swallowed and all of the fantasies he’d conjured up in dim twilight hours before he fell asleep came rushing into his mind’s eye, making him bite back a breathless moan.

 

He stood up, swaying a little as he fought to keep his balance. “Er, thank you.” He wasn’t really sure why he said it, but it seemed like the right thing to do. 

 

‘ _It is my pleasure, Doctor McKay,’_ came Atlantis’ calm reply. _‘I believe you will be able to use the information you have gathered here to good effect.’_

 

“Yes,” Rodney said vaguely. “Information. Yeah.” 

 

He didn’t remember the walk from the chair room to his own quarters, but the next time he was aware of his surroundings, he was lying on his bed, staring fixedly at the ceiling. It was all very well fantasizing about the wondrous possibilities that may open up if his liking for Sheppard was mutual, but how the hell did he have a conversation with the man about it? He himself wasn’t great at talking about actual feelings and he got the impression that Sheppard would rather hack off his own foot with a blunt penknife than admit to ever having had a feeling in his life.

 

But, Rodney consoled himself, he was after all, a genius. And geniuses always came up with an answer. Or at least a plan. A plan would do. Preferably one that involved locking himself and Sheppard into a room and forcing the major to talk. His traitorous mind went off on a tangent again as it tormented him with a dozen other ideas for things he’d like to do with Sheppard behind the safety of a securely locked door, but he banished them to a box in a far corner of his head. Hopefully, there’d be time for that later, after he’d convinced Sheppard of just how important the things that the screwy mind chair showed them actually were.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 

Humans, especially humans born on Earth, were very indecisive, Atlantis decided. Some of them had problems deciding what flavor jello to have, so expecting them to be able to make a firm decision regarding relationships was probably asking a little too much.

 

She’d watched Rodney McKay pace up and down his room for two solid hours. Occasionally he’d nod and mutter to himself, once he stopped and turned toward the door, only to begin pacing again a moment later.

 

Even if she hadn’t been able to read his thoughts, Atlantis thought perhaps she would have been able to figure out what was troubling the good doctor. As it was, a constant stream of _‘should I go see him? Should I just walk in and kiss him? Oh God, do I have to talk about feelings? How will he react? What do I do if he punches me? At least I know for certain that he does have some kind of feelings for me...’_ type thoughts battered at her consciousness. If she were human, she suspected that she would have a headache by now.

 

Resisting the urge to gently nudge McKay toward going to see Sheppard wasn’t easy. But resist she did, as she kept telling herself, the Lanteans hadn’t intended her to be a matchmaker. This strange desire to see two of her new occupants happy in each other’s company was completely new to her. Perhaps being alone for so long had corrupted some of her programming. Or perhaps having so much life within her after being frozen and barren for thousands of years was a little overwhelming. Maybe some of that life and vitality was transferring to her. She wasn’t certain she liked the idea of becoming less virtual and more human. Humans were...messy, volatile, unpredictable...addictive.

 

McKay gave an exhausted sigh and sank down onto his bed. “Okay, I know this is a long shot and it’s probably one of the saddest things a man can do, but Atlantis, if you can hear me, I need help. Actually, I think I need an agony aunt, can you do that?”

 

‘ _I do not think that phrase is contained within my vocabulary, Doctor McKay,’_ Atlantis replied, perplexed. _‘How will contacting a relative who is in pain aid you?’_

 

“No, no,” McKay groaned, covering his face with a pillow. “I need someone to talk to about,” he shuddered dramatically, “relationships.” 

 

‘ _Thank you, Doctor. I understand now,’_ Atlantis said, although she still didn’t understand the significance of talking to an aunt rather than anyone else. _‘I am programmed to listen, if you would care to speak of your problem?’_

 

“It’s not a problem,” McKay instantly said, pulling the pillow away from his face. “It’s more...a conflict. I’m conflicted. See, because of that stupid chair I know Sheppard likes me, or at least thinks about me as maybe more than just a friend, and I sure as hell know I think about him as more than a friend and I don’t know what to do about it. Every time I think I’ve decided what to do, another variable presents itself and...I don’t know. Maybe I’m just a coward. On the one hand I think the direct approach might work best with him, but on the other I know he’s an expert at hiding what he’s thinking, so would he react better to a slow and subtle type of thing?” He groaned again and shook his head. “Help me.”

 

‘ _Doctor McKay,’_ Atlantis said, wondering why humans, especially human males, found relationships so complex. _‘If I may speak freely, I think that Major Sheppard is ready to hear that you have strong feelings for him. I do not wish to betray him by repeating things which have passed through his mind, but, I think he may be receptive to the idea of a relationship.’_

 

“So you think I should just go see him and tell him I’ve been dreaming about jumping his bones for months?” McKay’s face took on an almost pathetically hopeful expression.

 

Atlantis smiled to herself. She really was rather fond of McKay, for all his neuroses and snappy nature. _‘I think that perhaps if you explained the situation regarding the chair and the things it showed you, Major Sheppard may begin to understand.’_

 

“Crap,” McKay wrinkled his nose. “This is going to entail talking about feelings. Just kill me now. Actually, wait, that wasn’t an order, please don’t kill me.” 

 

‘ _Have no fear, Doctor, I will not harm you,’_ Atlantis said, amused. _‘But I think perhaps the time has come to explain your feelings to Major Sheppard. I feel that you will both benefit from, how do you say it, clearing the air between you?’_

 

“Okay,” McKay said and rubbed his eyes. “I can do this. I’m a genius for God’s sake, I can deal with one little conversation.”

 

Heaving himself to his feet, he barreled out of the door before he allowed himself to think of changing his mind. Atlantis had to admire him, once Rodney McKay decided on a course of action, he’d allow very little to sway him from it. Whether this course was the right one or not, remained to be seen.

 

# # #

 

Sheppard was stretched out on his bed, trying and failing to read the enormous book he’d brought with him from Earth. Atlantis watched as he re-read page forty-seven for the third time, then put the tome down with a heartfelt sigh.

 

When his door chime sounded, he looked up, surprised and a little annoyed to be disturbed when he was technically off duty. Of course, ‘off duty’ was relative in the Pegasus galaxy, no-one was ever really excluded from duty, regardless of how many hours they’d already put in that week or how exhausted they were. 

 

Atlantis glanced at Rodney, standing outside the door with his hands pushed deep into his pockets, trying to ignore how sweaty his palms suddenly were and the way his stomach was bubbling with nerves.

 

Well, she’d done all she could, she’d shown them the feelings they were both hiding, now it was up to them. She knew she should withdraw, allow the two men to talk and decide how to proceed in privacy. But somehow she felt invested in their futures, after watching them dance around each other for so long, it seemed wrong to miss the moment when they realized that their longings could become reality.

 

Sheppard opened the door and raised his eyebrows when he saw Rodney there. Rodney took half a step back as though preparing to flee. Atlantis winced, surely he wouldn’t lose his nerve, not now, not when he was so close.

 

“I know what the chair does,” Rodney said, the words tumbling out of his mouth in more of a rush than usual. “I figured it out. Well, Atlantis helped. She, er, showed me some stuff too.”

 

“Oh.” Sheppard stepped aside to allow Rodney into his room. “Cool. So what’s it for? Was I right, Mirror of Erised?”

 

“Kind of,” Rodney frowned. Atlantis heard him frantically thinking, trying to find a way to explain his own visions. “Uh, I saw things as well, I sat in the chair too.”

 

“So what did you see?” Sheppard flopped back down onto his bed and waved Rodney to a chair. Atlantis caught herself admiring the lean lines of Sheppard’s body, and instantly wondered whether she’d been spending too much time in McKay’s head.

 

“That’s the tricky part,” Rodney said slowly, his gaze fixed on his shoes.

 

“As in...what?” Sheppard said, interest flaring in his eyes.

 

Rodney coughed and cleared his throat. “As in, it showed me things that I would, if faced with Ascension, hold on to in order to remain in my human form, things I wouldn’t want to give up. I suppose you could say the chair showed me the things I love. Atlantis said they were the things which make me human.” 

 

Moving slowly, his face thoughtful and wary, Sheppard sat on the edge of the bed and rested his elbows on his knees. “An Ascension device. Crap, the Ancients were obsessed with Ascending, weren’t they?”

 

“So obsessed they put more energy into researching that than they did fighting the Wraith,” Rodney agreed, shaking his head sadly. “But I suppose if they’d all Ascended, they could have defeated the Wraith with the power of thought, or whatever it is you can do when you’re made of pure energy.”

 

Sheppard swallowed and sniffed uncomfortably. “So, the things you saw projected in that smoky stuff...they were the things that I wouldn’t want to give up, right?”

 

Rodney raised his eyebrows and opened and closed his mouth a few times.

 

‘ _Go on’_ , Atlantis urged him. _‘Tell him the truth, tell him how you feel.’_ Something almost like excitement surged through her, they were so close, just a few more words...

 

“I should go.” Rodney stood and turned toward the door, his eyes wide and panic stricken. The resolve which had sustained him this far crumbled, taking his courage with it. 

 

Atlantis sighed, how would they ever come to understand the depth of one another’s feelings if they were incapable of talking? 

 

“What did you see?” Sheppard spoke softly, looking down at his hands as though by not making eye contact with Rodney, he could pretend that it wasn’t actually him talking. “In the chair, what did you see?”

 

Rodney stopped, puffed out a deep breath and said, “Atlantis, my sister, myself getting a Nobel, Sam Carter...” he swung round and glared at Sheppard, who had snorted with laughter. “Oh, and a kid’s theme park ride is the most logical thing to want to hang on to. What is it with you and Ferris wheels?”

 

“They remind me,” Sheppard replied, still quiet and controlled, “of being a kid. My brother used to take me to the fair during the summer, before our mom died. After she was gone, we kinda...stopped doing anything. Maybe seeing me happy reminded Dave of Mom too much.” He shrugged, deliberately careless. “Anyway, Ferris wheels still make me think of good times.”

 

Atlantis felt Sheppard’s pain and Rodney’s helplessness. Humans were strange creatures, she decided. Hopelessly strong and terrifyingly brave at times, at others lost and bewildered by their own existence. They were paradoxes, each and every one of them.

 

“I’m sorry,” Rodney managed. “Didn’t know.”

 

“That’s because I never told you,” Sheppard said evenly. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I don’t tend to go talking about myself much.” He sighed and Atlantis felt him push away grief which he’d never really taken the time to deal with. She almost ached to speak to him, comfort him in some way, but no, that wasn’t her role. Rodney should be the one to do that. 

 

“So, what else did you see? The chair showed me five things and you only mentioned four. Although knowing your ego, you probably saw the Nobel thing twice.” Sheppard grinned to show he didn’t really mean the insult.

 

Rodney pouted and glared for a moment, then smiled. “That might have been nice, but no, the other thing I saw was you.” His face was for once unreadable, but Atlantis heard his heart beating so fast and hard, she worried for his health.

 

“Oh.” Sheppard was suddenly very still, as though carved from stone.

 

“Yeah,” Rodney said breathlessly.

 

“Right.” Sheppard still didn’t move, though his eyes were firmly fixed on Rodney’s.

 

“Indeed.” Rodney gazed back like a rabbit hypnotized by approaching car headlights.

 

“We’re using one word sentences.”

 

“So we are.”

 

“I’m bad at talking.”

 

“I’m terrible with people.”

 

“I leave clothes on the bathroom floor.”

 

“I don’t sleep much and I think I hog the covers.”

 

“I snore.”

 

“I can’t talk in the morning till I get coffee.”

 

“That’d be a relief.”

 

“I hate you.”

 

Sheppard moved, one minute he was on the bed and the next he was crowding Rodney up against the wall. Rodney allowed himself to be manhandled with no protest.

 

Atlantis focused all of her energy on the two of them. Nothing else seemed to matter at that moment, the Wraith and the rest of her inhabitants could take care of themselves for a minute. Somehow, what was happening between John and Rodney was so much more important.

 

“No, you don’t.” Sheppard’s voice was low and husky and filled with more desire than Atlantis had ever heard in her thousands of years of existence. “I think you like me. An’ you know somethin’? I think I like you.”

 

There was dead silence for a split second before both men leaned forward simultaneously and kissed each other. Atlantis quickly looked away. She’d done what she wanted to, they’d worked out how they felt, the messy part they could do on their own.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

 

The fight with the Wraith was far from over, Atlantis knew that. Her human inhabitants faced danger and death every day. But they were still capable of finding happiness and clinging to it as fiercely as she clung to the hope that she would never again be abandoned beneath the uncaring waves.

 

Sheppard and McKay, or as she now thought of them, John and Rodney, were a perfect example of the resilience of human nature. Their own personalities had worked to keep them apart, John’s worry for his career preventing him speaking his mind and Rodney’s obliviousness to John’s predicament drawing the agony out for far longer than had been necessary. The Wraith had occupied their thoughts, leaving no time or energy for love. Finding more ZPMs, searching for a viable alpha site in case they ever needed to evacuate, seeking out other planets whose peoples were friendly and willing to trade...the list of things keeping them busy and apart had been long enough to make Atlantis wince in sympathy.

 

Yet they had still found one another, light years from home and fighting a war they were uncertain of winning. 

 

They had decided it was best to keep their relationship quiet, at least to begin with. Atlantis still didn’t fully understand Sheppard’s concern for his career if anyone heard of his feelings for McKay, but, they were together, that was what she’d aimed for. Perhaps, if those around the pair were accepting and non-judgmental, they may one day find the courage to make their bond public knowledge. Although, Atlantis was sure she detected a certain degree of enjoyment from both men. Sneaking around, stealing a moment here, a touch there, waiting until after dark to creep unseen to one another’s rooms, perhaps it added a degree of danger which appealed to their sense of adventure. Either way, they seemed happy enough, so who was she to complain?

 

Atlantis saw them glance at each other before they stepped through the gate on yet another trading mission. That one look contained everything, love, lust, need, determination, fierce desire to protect one another, bone-chilling fear of something happening which couldn’t be fixed. John smiled confidently and checked his weapon, Rodney patted his pockets to make sure he had some extra power bars stashed away. Both fronts to hide their thoughts, both plausible to the people around them, both transparent to her.

 

“Keep the lights on, kids,” John said, grinning up at Elizabeth. “We’ll be back before you know it.”

 

“Be safe,” she replied quietly.

 

John nodded once and turned back to the gate. He and Rodney went through side by side, followed by the rest of their team. Atlantis saw them bump shoulders as they vanished.

 

Contentment washed through her until she was sure everyone with the Lantean gene must be able to feel it thrumming beneath their skin. The future was uncertain, but when was it anything else? She looked down at the lovely, beautiful, flawed, unpredictable, hot-headed, wonderfully diverse humans within her and smiled. She had spent an achingly long time alone but now...now she had a universe all of her very own.


End file.
